


To Seek

by Werecakes



Series: To See [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Hunters, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bifur is about to step away from the side lines, Bilbo likes to fuck with things for the greater good, Dark, Dwalin means well, F/M, Fili has a wake up call, Fili turns dark, Flying, Gandalf Meddles, Kili tries his best, M/M, Magic, Memory Loss, Mystery, Vampire Sex, Werewolves, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves, Witches, Wizards, amnisea, but not as much as Bilbo, can't keep a good plot down, fairies are made not born, if you like vampire and werewolves you'll like this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:56:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2229819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werecakes/pseuds/Werecakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel of To Enchant</p><p> </p><p>After Frerin's death Fili disappears along with Thorin. Kili tries to keep hope that they are alive. When he finds no leads he's forced to make the decision of his life, one that easily falls for his lips because they are from the heart. </p><p>He wants to become a Hunter. But before Bifur will give him full training, he wants to know exactly what Kili is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Darkness was the first thing he knew. Warm and kind to his body, nurturing like a mother’s embrace. The darkness held no sounds to whisper into his ears and will him to wake up. It was silent, letting him slumber in peace.

Sound was the second thing that came to him. A muffled sound, a soft squeal before a pop. The popping continued coming into sounds of creaking. Curious, he pushed himself towards the sound, pushing through a pressure that willed him to stay in the darkness.

Cold was the third thing he knew. His face broke free of earth, cold air rushing into his lungs as he gasped. Dirt slipped into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat forcing a cough. Another came then another, each growing with intensity forcing him to desperately gasp between each one. He spat as he pulled himself out of the ground, something sharp bit into his chest, moving then falling. He put his hands against whatever was causing him pain, the sharp edge cutting into his palms. Creating the fourth thing he knew to be pain. 

He looked at his hands, covered with blackened earth, something dark spilling forth from his wounds. He was pale and trembling and he could not see anything beyond the contrast of skin and dirt. He rubbed the back of his thumb, down to his wrist, over his lips. His tongue danced inside of his mouth, collecting the bitter taste of dirt and spat. Something over head moved, allowing a cold light to come down and touch upon his head. He looked up at the bright disk that hung in the endless black above. It wasn’t a solid color, it didn’t hurt his eyes when he gazed upon it. It was big, bright, and set an ease in his heart akin to a tender touch. 

Slowly, reluctantly, he turned his eyes away and to the world around him. It was big and open. small lights twinkled in two directions, all clustered together as if trying to keep warm. Then there was nothing. He slowly blinked trying to understand the lights. Most were one color with a few that were different, he could see some moving a few as bright as the disk in the sky and others the color of… of… He looked to his hands that throbbed. The other colors were like the color coming out of his hands. There were faint sounds too. A high pitched whirring that screamed in the distance. It made the muscles in his shoulders tighten and his heart beat faster. He pushed himself up, his cut palms grabbing the edge of a colorless ocean that was hard and cold. It was shiny and cruel to him as he pulled out of the earth. It was a struggle as the hard substance was as thick as his forearm forcing him to heave and kick his legs in the dirt trying to free himself from this strange prison.

The more he got himself out the meaner the edge of the motionless sea was, biting into his skin and gnawing and scraping as he pulled himself up. He tried to stand but his legs gave out. His body crumpled to the smooth surface, more of that sea jabbing into his skin. He took in several breaths, his vision now swimming. There was something wrong with him. What it was, he had no idea, but something was very wrong.

He huffed several times, a sound of discomfort was coming from from somewhere. It took him a while before he realized that it was coming from himself. The noise traveling up his throat and out of his mouth. He hurt. Everything hurt and his limbs were weak. 

He pushed himself up to his elbow, looking down at himself, nothing but dirt graced his skin. He rolled onto his back, bringing up his knees. That same red stuff that was coming from his hands was now coming from his thigh. His finger brushed over it, feeling something little and sharp pull with his finger. A hiss pushed past his teeth as he grabbed the shard and pulled it out, the long, colorless sliver left his flesh leaving behind only a dull throb.

That mechanical scream of the whirring was getting closer now. He could see in the distance red and blue flashing lights. Fear clutched his heart and told him to go, he had to leave before they could find him. He had to get out of there.

He got on his belly and pushed himself up onto his feet. His knees wobbled and buckled, his arms flailing to keep balanced. He rocked back and forth working himself to a still position. Sliding his feet along to smooth surface, he took one step. Then another, then another. Despite the fear his lips pulled up on one side as a huffed sound of satisfaction came out. He was doing it. He was doing this on his own.

He looked up from his feet. Where was he supposed to go?

He wasn’t sure about the sea of lights, nor the endless encompassing darkness. He looked up at the disk in the sky. It was now leaning in a direction above, when before it was directly overhead. 

He gave his surroundings one last look. Following the light would take him away from the cluster of tiny lights. It would take him away from the flashes of color and the piercing cries that made him so scared. He decided, he would follow the light. That was, until he could figure out what was going on.

\---------------------------------------------------

It didn’t take long for the number ten to come but it can always seem so far away as well. Ten years of knowing who you were, walking in school halls and kissing the girls. Studying hard and keeping your eyes open at that bright future. Ten months of thankless work, watching Dwalin closely as he scratched a permanent itch under his skin caused by drugs and alcohol. Ten weeks of vacations put the side for jobs, never once venturing home. Ten hours thinking about blue eyes, stunning and wanting. Blue eyes that held an empty hole that was just the right size for him to fit into, to snuggle up and provide something that only he could. To drink only what he could give. Ten minutes to being pushed from him, sitting at a glum grave where he sat confused and hurt. To sit with him and listen to how his whole world had suddenly changed all because he slept with a man that had those enchanting eyes. Everything he knew thrown up into the hurricane winds and waiting for any semblance of normality to come falling down. Ten seconds of a dream, sliding through a hot duct, spat out into the darkness to be plunged into a throat. Only to wake with the most horrible pain and in a pool of blood.

It came again, that number Kili was beginning to hate. Ten hours of driving, ten miles into the next state, ten minutes to fill the gas tank and to get into the late night diner in a sea of semi-trucks. Ten dollars for a meal and coffee. The volume of the television set to ten, ten seconds for his eyes to catch the screen, to read the captions of breaking news.

“No.” His voice wasn’t even a breathe.

He turned to the one late shift waitress. “Turn it up! Turn it up now!!”

The woman didn’t move, looking at him with a hard glare for his rudeness. He jumped over the counter ignoring her shouts that he wasn’t allowed back there. Pain from his recently removed splints shot through his body making his vision sway and his vision blotched with white and dark spots. He swallowed trying to keep himself under control even though his hand and knee screamed in pain. He ignored the shoves of her hands and the slap of her palms against his shoulders and back. He dug around knocking dishes to the floor before he found the remote. 

Truckers were looking at them, some sliding out of their seats to try to intervene. Kili held out his arm trying to keep her at bay as his recovering hand jabbed at the volume control turning the television up as high as he could get it. 

_”...the radius of the blast had exceeded the hospital grounds.”_

The diner fell silent, the only sound coming from the TV as attention was drawn to it. Kili’s eyes fixed to the large crater that dug deep into the earth. Bits of cement walls were thrown out, crushing cars, gouging trails into manicured lawns. Trees were broken, some were on fire where powerful hoses were used to try to spray them down. From the helicopter view point there wasn’t even debris from rooms. No beds, no walls, no clothing, nothing like that of a normal explosion, not something from a tornado or hurricane. Where there should have been desolation there was nothing but black, burnt earth.

The television shot over to a reporter that was walking backwards, her hand held out to the side as she talked.

_”We had spoken to the head of the fire department, for any insight as to what may have caused this and he told us that they cannot say for sure but far as they know it has been the unfortunate combination of volatile chemicals in the hospital itself as well as the gas line that ran under the grounds.”_

She came over to a large patch of reflective ground. She bent over, poked and flicked at chard dirt, flaking up a hard shard of something that was dark and bits of rock and dirt stuck into it.

_”It’s hard to say exactly what had really happened because as you can see everything is leveled, it’s just leveled. This, what I have here in my hand is a shard of glass. The blast was so hot and fast that it literally burned the hospital in a sort of flash bomb that it melted the sand and rock of the foundation into glass._

“Oh my god.” The waitress’s once abusive hands clutched at Kili’s jacket.

The brunet stared, refusing to blink. His vision began to blur as large tears slipped free.

 _”Unfortunately… there has yet to be any survivors reported… and…_ The reporter took a moment, tossing the shard of glass to the ground. It clanked when it hit the surface of long spance of the smooth surface. She took several breaths, dabbing at her eyes, mumbling “I’m sorry” that was barely loud enough for her mic to catch. The camera operator reached over and patted her back saying something that she nodded to. She sniffed then turned to the camera once more, dark circles under the eyes as she sniffed once more. _...There has yet to be reported any survivors and there is no estimate as of yet that… that there will be any bodies to be found. Our… Our hearts go out to those who had family and friends at the Providence hospital…_

Kili didn’t know what happened. He blinked. The world twisted and muttered. He hit the side of the counter and fell back, the waitress trying to catch him. Then everything was dark.

Dark and empty.


	2. Chapter 2

He stumbled over the edge of the road, gravel biting into his bare feet from the soft shoulder. The bright disk above was out of sight now, it had slowly gone lower and lower in time. Now the darkness above was changing, a blue color bleeding into the black, or was it gray? 

He stepped backwards, looking up at the sky trying to figure out the world around him. Something familiar about what was going on above. 

_”Keep it raining…”_

Something large came down, hitting him in the face. It was cold and ran down his cheek. He touched at it, feeling the wet sensation as another came down and another. Rain. Yes… yes this was rain. But… why was it raining?... What _was_ rain?

There was a screeching sound, a loud burst of noise and the smell of something foul burning. He twisted at the waist, a light blinding his eyes. He threw up his hands, shielding his face. Whatever had been coming at him stopped, or more of, he stopped it. It burst inches away from his skin. Metal twisted, fluids sprayed as this beast opened up like a flower bud being torn into in a child’s hand. It rent with a scream from within, the roar of the engine popped and exploded, flying off with the debris of the rest of it. There was a tremendous rocking sound followed by a slam then silence.

Slowly, he lowered his arms, trembling slightly from what had happened. His breath huffed in short gasps taking stalk of what had happened. 

Car.

He thinks it’s a car. It had come at him and now… now it looked as if the metal had been peeled away from the inside out. The engine block was down the street along with a tire and parts of the hood. The windshield was broken, glass sprayed everywhere around him. Inside the vehicle was a single person, head misshapen from the steering wheel that imbedded into the forehead. He jerked with a start when something white suddenly burst from the steering wheel forcing the head back and sending bits of skull and hair into the air, some of it hit his chest and the corner of his mouth. 

He stood there, unsure what to do. Smoke from the wreck curled around him, the bent engine cavity was still warm and… and he was still alone. What was he to do? He knew something bad was going to happen soon. Something to do with the sky when the rain stopped. Something would hurt… Something… something…

He bunched a hand in his hair, the heel of his palm pressed painfully against the tip of his ear. What was he to do?! 

His tongue darted out to nervously lick his lips. The flavor of copper barely registered, but it was enough to make his stomach clutch in pain. His mouth started to salivate and he became painfully aware that he was very, very hungry. But what could he eat?

He swallowed loudly as a thought occurred to him. 

Maybe there was something in the car to eat. The person was dead… they wouldn’t mind now if he went through the seats to find something to satisfy the pain. 

He edged around the wreck, stopping to look at the bent body of the driver. He swallowed again. He was so hungry.

Pulling open one of the back doors was easy, the metal yielded very little resistance and the whole thing came off. He hopped back when it clattered to the ground leaving a hole for him to enter the enclosed space. He crawled in, his hands seeking out anything that he could grab. There was a small cloth bag that he opened up finding a sandwich and a thermos of something the smelled odd. He sipped it and a little bit more knowledge came to him; onion soup. He sat in the back seat, pulling his knees up as he eagerly ate the simple sandwich and drank the soup. It didn’t help the pain in his stomach. In fact, after having half of the meal he felt a terrible twist that made him turn and throw up on the seat beside him. That horrible feeling only stopped when he had completely emptied his stomach, the only thing left was the bitter taste of bile on his tongue. The smell of the vomit made him want to throw up more, so he left the back seat leaving the half eaten meal behind. 

His stomach hurt so bad now but there was nothing he could do for it if it didn’t want to hold food down… or what he thought was food. He instead went to the trunk of the car. His fingers digging along the line of it trying to find a grip. The car must have been bashed up more than it looked because when he probed the lock it fell in, breaking free and allowing him to open the trunk. There was nothing really in it except for what looked like small pack. Inside were sticks that smelled funny, and a box that had visual instructions that showed how to use these things to treat wounds. He used those to clean up his thigh and hands. The rest he put back in the pack and held on to. He didn’t know what the sticks were but maybe they were as useful as the bandages.

He started to walk past the driver once more and stopped. His stomach growling loudly. He pushed his hunger out of his mind in favor for looking at the man. Not the same build as him but… his clothing would fit. 

He put down his pack and pulled on the corpse, pulling it out little by little only to have it get stuck on the seat belt. He had to work the body under the straps before it slumped to the ground. He pulled it a little further away from the car so that he had more working room. There was a lot of blood on the shirt but oddly, that didn’t bother him. He unbuttoned the black shirt, rolling the body until he got it off. He pulled off the shoes and then the pants. He worked the body until it was completely naked. He slipped his legs into the pants and pulled them up. Zipping and buttoning the jeans fit a bit too tightly but it blocked out the cold. He was pulling on the button up shirt when the smell of blood made his hunger even more prevalent. 

His eyes went down to the body. Saliva slipped out of the corner of his mouth, forcing him to swallow once more. 

Slowly he lowered his mouth to broken skin that lead to the gaping hole of the skull. Teeth and bone stuck out in a pool of flesh and soft brain. His tongue traced under a few teeth, knocking them free. He gave a little suck, slurping up blood and ribbons of flesh. He sat back on his legs letting his stomach decide what to do next. 

It liked this. His stomach told him to eat. So he opened his mouth and fed.


	3. Chapter 3

Kili couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He could barely breathe. He sat across from Bifur in a hard seat, hearing the sounds of people mumbling around him. He had been fanned while unconscious, an ice pack put to the side of his head where he hit the floor extra hard in his collapse. Bifur had been late coming into the restaurant because he was putting air into the worn tires of the vehicle they were currently using. He had come in when Kili was groggily sitting up, people helping him with firm hands on his back and voices asking if he was okay. Bifur, for the first time, was the last to find out what had happened. The news program had repeated itself until it couldn’t be handled any more and the tv was turned off in favor for the radio. The DJs would speak of the tragedy before playing more music that sounded more like lyrics a ghost would sing at the edge of one’s hearing. 

When asked what caused him to faint Bifur made the excuse; “His family was there, we were on our way to visit his dying father-in-law.”

Sympathetic eyes would rest on the brunet before turning away, mumbled apologies to hear that someone lost his own family in one tragedy mixed in with the music. Finally a cup half full of coffee was put in front of him, the waitress from before stood next to a trucker that opened a flask and poured until the cup was filled.

“We thought you would like something strong.” She put another cup in front of Bifur where the trucker repeated his actions for the older man. “For you and your uncle.”

Kili deftly looked out the window he sat next too, seeing nothing but bright lights from the parking lot that kept the darkness away. It looked sad to him. Darkness was natural, the night a gentle caress like Fili’s hands. The cool air fresh and free, giving the same feeling of Fili’s kisses. It was beautiful and it was being chased away by bright lights designed to comfort human fears. 

“You gonna say something kid?” Bifur asked. “It’s been almost a full day.”

Kili’s eyes trailed down to the table, roaming over to where Bifur’s torn fingernails tapped against the all too small coffee cup. He slowly blinked. He flexed his fingers feeling the strained pull of his freshly healed broken hand.

He was still processing everything, slowly letting time tick by. Before hand there was an essence of urgency. They had to go and save Fili from himself… now… now they were slammed into a halt. What were they supposed to do now? Sit here until the snows of winter came? Go back to Bifur’s where he would become an Aware like Bifur? Someone who knew what was going on in the world around them but not willing to get involved. Or was he going to find evidence that Fili was gone? Go to the glassed acres and look for… what would he even be looking for?! 

Kili’s hands shot to his head, his fingers digging into his scalp. 

What good was he?! Fili had been safe before Kili came into his life! He was a kind vampire that only needed his father! He didn’t need Kili to show up and hound him until they were so twined together that there was no escape! In essence he killed him, he killed them all, every single person in that hospital all because he couldn’t stay away!! All because he fell for the wrong person at the wrong time!

Bifur’s eyes went wide as red trails leaked down onto Kili’s pale face. He shot up, reaching over and grabbing at Kili’s wrists, pulling as hard as he could to get Kili to stop clawing up his own head. 

Bifur yanked on Kili, getting him out of his seat. The student fought him, but he was stronger from years of keeping himself physically fit enough to fight off whatever supernatural thing came sniffing him out. He wrestled him, wrapping his arms around him, squeezing tight until Kili’s struggling died down into fits of sobbing. He held him close, glaring at his own reflection in the window. He saw the faint images of people looking at them, then turning away with grim shakes of their heads. 

“They’re not dead.” Kili finally spoke between ragged breaths. Spit clung to his lips and teeth from being dehydrated, refusing to eat or drink since the news report yesterday. He released a shuddering sob. “He can’t be, none of them can be.”

Bifur didn’t say anything, only continued to glare at himself. The only people he cared about were gone now. Hunted down until the keystone of their existence was withered and broken. Frerin had been keeping them alive, keeping them sane and safe. The Collective had come after them, Hounds had doggedly chased them like they were diseased animals. The Collective targeted the innocent boy in his arms, the magic in him hurting Kili’s vampire. Hurting Bifur’s family. 

They weren’t going to get away with this. He sat on the sidelines too long, he should have joined in earlier, been there when all of this first started. He was positive that he could have prevented this tragedy. Now he felt the familiar stir in his gut of anger, of frustration, making him crave action. He wanted revenge. 

“We’ll go home.” Bifur spoke up softly, his voice dry as his throat, constricting with grief and determination.

“We need to find them.”

“We will.” Bifur’s thoughts focused on the Hounds and the Collective. He needed to get Kili back to his place. He was going to go into the field but he wasn’t going to leave Kili defenseless. It was time to really crack into the kid and make a Hunter out of him.

\----------------------------------------------

He had to hide when it was bright with golden light. He still had a hard time grasping the world around him as he huddled down in a dug out hole under a tree. He was tangled in roots, loose dirt and bugs fell down on him as he waited for the thing in the sky to go away. It hurt to be in it, burned his skin, until it was boiled and red. Some of his blisters were filling with blood and despite the pain all he could feel was the hunger in his belly. He ate what he could of the man from the car. He walked as far as he could before that thing in the sky came out and burned him. He had tried to sleep but couldn’t, each time he closed his eyes he heard sounds outside his hiding spot. The thumping of feet running by, giggles that traveled away as soon as they came. 

Eventually exhaustion overtook him, pulling him past the haunting laughs and the running feet. When he woke he wasn’t in pain. He looked at his once burned hand and found it pale and smooth once more. He didn’t know how it was the way it was, but as long as it didn’t hurt any more than he was fine with it. He pulled himself out of his hole. He dusted himself off, looking around and seeing the moon once more. He stared at it for a long time, enjoying the gentle glow. 

_”Are you moon gazing without me?”_

He turned around expecting to see someone. 

The cold forest greeted him, empty and filled with shadows of night. He hugged himself feeling his skin prickle with discomfort. He didn’t like this place…

He picked up his feet, he had to get out of the forest. Something was wrong with it. He made his way back to the road where he could see the moon. He looked down both ways that the cement stretched. Everything seemed… it seemed…

His hands went to his head, flashes of images flipped through his mind. Bright light not hurting him, someone laughing next to him. They were warm and comforting, but they were scared always scared under the smiles. They were in so much pain, or was it him that was in pain? Who was in pain?! 

He staggered feeling his head swim, now pulsing with agony, swimming in confusion. He didn’t know which way was up or down. A flood of voices filled his skull, one of the other, rambling together, whispering, talking, screaming. No, not screaming, he was the one screaming. Falling to his knees as he nearly vomits from the onslaught. They were coming by too quickly to process, too much was in his head! He had to get them out, let them out through a hole in his skull or his head was going to burst! With the force of his hands to aid him he slammed his head onto the ground, over and over again, jarring his teeth, breaking his nose. He was dying! He would certainly be dead if he didn’t break himself open! He slammed his head down again and again. Something cracked deep inside, his arms went limp as he slumped, head on the ground, sitting on his legs.

Everything stopped. 

Silence coming back as he laid on the road.

\-------------------------------

Dwalin pulled the cigar out of his mouth. He flicked the end letting ash fall on top of his boots. He looked at the mangled mess of a car. He had come acrossed it that morning after the cloud cover started to clear. A remote part outside of the city, not a lot of traffic at all since it lead to closed campgrounds, but when one of his group had not come to the morning meeting he started to wonder. Worse yet it was Gary, Gary was a motorcycle enthusiast and they were going over travel plans for a nice long road trip to meet up with some other fellow “enthusiasts” as it were. He had went out looking for Gary, knowing he was the groundskeeper of the local campgrounds only to find the mangled mess of his car as if a bomb went off. Then… there was Gary himself. Dwalin had taken his cell phone out and took pictures of the naked half eaten man. He noticed the vomit and broken door, took pictures of that too. He pulled a tarp out of his truck, wrapped up the body and carefully put it in the truck bed. He called back to his garage for Nori to bring the tow truck when the man got out of his college classes. 

He had to wait until people got off of their jobs and out of school before they could all gather back up again. The whole crew in the locked garage looking at the twisted metal. Bewildered by the solid evidence before them, some still taking in the pictures of the scene that they flipped through on Dwalin’s phone. 

“Any ideas?” Dwalin asked.

“Can’t be a car bomb,” Nori scratched behind his ear. “There isn’t enough damaged caused by burns. It’s almost as if something ripped it apart.” 

“Aye, and the teeth marks on Gary, here and here… too humanoid to be ‘related’.” Dwalin looked over at Oin. “What do we got? Vamp?”

Oin shook his head, he pushed up his round glasses as he straightened out from the table that Gary’s body was on. “It’s not right for a vampire, not even in a frenzy feed.”

“Maybe it’s a ghoul.” Trent spoke up, one of their newest members. He had fancied books of the macabre and unknown before any of it became part of his day to day life. 

“Ghouls can’ts survive around here, too cold.” Oin tilted his head something catching in the light. He squinted at the small golden flecks that were barely visible. “Whatever it is, I think it’s young.”

“Young?” Nori scoffed. “You’re saying a kid did this?”

“Mmhmm, possibly even a babe…” Oin leaned closer to the soft skin around the gaping holes in flesh. He took out his pocket knife and scrapped it along the surface gathering fine gold along the blade. 

“A baby? You’re telling me that a baby stumbled out onto the road, killed Gary, then ate him?” Dwalin growled.

“That’s one kid I don’t want to babysit.” Trent threw up his hands.

“You and me both.” Nori stated.

“Not all babies are born to a body that is defenseless like ours, or humans, or even vampires.” Oin scraped the dust into a small plastic bag. “May not even be a babe but a sort of larvae that developed into it’s next stage.”

“If it’s going from there then it had to be something before, in the embryo stage before becoming a larvae, if it’s a pupa now then what the hell will it be when it reaches imago?” All eyes fell on the usually quiet member of their group, Bombur.

“I can’t say.” Oin pocketed his knife. 

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves.” Dwalin rubbed at his temple, more ash from his cigar tumbled down. “We’re assuming a lot for not knowing anything about this… thing. Oin, what makes you think it’s a baby?”

“Vomit in the car, Gary’s lunch was half eaten before expelled. From what’s in the vomit the thing had eaten what it identified as food first before the body rejected it. Gary’s clothes are removed but his shoes were still at the scene, the shoes didn’t fit but the clothing did. It was cold and needed warmth. Then there is Gary himself, eaten but there is no vomit that had blood and meat in it. And from what I can tell from my training at the coroner’s office, he was dug into not long after he died. His body wasn’t hidden in anyway, the car wreck wasn’t tampered with from what we can tell, but the biggest clue is the vomit.”

“Will you stop saying that word, it’s making me queasy.” Nori put a hand over his stomach.

“The point is, there is a sort of innocence to this.”

“Great, so Gary was innocently killed.” Dwalin pulled a drag off of his cigar.

“No. I think his death was possibly happenstance. Whatever is out there, is powerful, but young.”

“No.” Dwalin pointed two fingers at Oin. “I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no.”

“It’s better we find it before anyone else does.”

“We don’t know what _it_ is!”

“Exactly!”

“If it is new to this world it shouldn’t be damned from the beginning.” Bombur spoke up.

“I have to agree.” Nori shrugged. “Besides if it’s too dangerous maybe we can find some Hounds to hunt it down.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring Hounds into this situation but I’m all for knowing what the hell that thing is. I mean, what the hell eats a werewolf?” Trent rubbed at his bright red hair.

“Then how do you suppose we find this thing?” Dwalin looked pointedly at Oin.

Oin held up the baggie and shook it. “With this.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t know, but it smells heavily of magic.”

“Oh this just gets better and better.” Nori bit out. “So we’re after something that’s just born, most likely a magical concoction that some coven cooked up that eats our kind and it’s crazy powerful.”

“Stuff it Nori, you can’t take back your vote.” Dwalin barked out. “Cancel whatever you guys have going on tonight, we’re going to find this thing.”


	4. Chapter 4

The world came rushing back, all the noise, all the pain so intense it slammed into him as if he had jumped off of a building and hit the ground. He gasped, jerking his head up. The pain increased making him howl in agony. His hands came up, shaking, as he tenderly touched at his face. As quickly as it came the pain was gone, the whispers stayed. He felt his stuffed sinuses and blew out through his nose. Globes of red jell splattered down on the ground where there was more red.

Red… red…

He put his hand down on the substance. He ate this kind of stuff before, it was… it was blood. He looked up at the sky, the light in the sky had moved considerably across the darkness. 

There was a child’s laughter that came from behind him. He twisted around, falling onto his butt. What was out there? What was following him?

His frightened gaze scanned the dark shadows of the night trying to make out any figure that would move. A rock tumbled across the road, bouncing as if someone had tossed it. He looked to where it had come from only to see nothing, nothing at all. The rock suddenly turned by an unseen force. It skittered towards him. He paddled backwards on his hands and bare feet, quickly turning onto all fours. He scrambled up to his feet and started to run. He didn’t know what was going on. All he knew was that it wasn’t normal, none of this was normal! Everything was wrong!

As he ran he heard the sounds of animals, their large paws thumping on the earthen floor of the forest. He slowed, chest heaving with each panicked breath. 

_“Dad!”_

“Shut up.”

_“Dad!!”_

“SHUT UP!!!” He grabbed at his head as that voice started to split his skull in two. It pierced through everything, stabbing into his very nerves like hot needles.

The animals were getting closer, he could feel it, smell it. They were circling around him. He needed the voice to shut up, he needed to be able to react to protect the… His wide eyes scanned around for a small body. His instincts started to pitch him into a new type of fear.

Where was he? Where was… where was who?

It was suddenly silent. He could hear the animals now, heavy and large. They were keeping their distance, watching him. 

There was a growl to his right. He slowly looked over, his body tensing from the red eyes that glowed in the shadows. They were at eye level, slowly raising several feet above him. His knees shook. He slowly took a few steps away as this new beast came forward, the heavy weight of the creature made every one of its approaching steps a thump. It slowly lowered back down, slinking forward. Long claws scraped against the cement of the road as it crept into the moonlight. It didn’t have paws, more of fingers that mimicked a paw. The claws were long, only worn down from digging into the earth and its prey. The limbs were long and muscular, a strange combination between animal and human. The furr was thick all throughout the body, the head that of what could be best described as a wolf and a bear. The creature pulled back its jowls and snarled with a warning growl.

The man almost fell in his fear. He had never seen anything like this before. What was it?

It prowled closer with slow sure steps. The hackles were raised, bushy tail up in show that it was alert and would not hesitate to attack. 

He made a sound in the back of his throat which caused the beast to bark at him. He cringed, throwing up his arms as a weak barrier. 

_“Don’t worry. Werewolves are neutral, they won’t hurt us without a reason.”_

That voice was different from the child’s. Was that… had that been his voice?

Hot breath washed over him freezing his thoughts. The werewolf was close, too close. He watched it as it opened the massive maw and an uncontrollable fear overtook him. It would only take one bite and he would be chopped in half. He could feel the moisture of the mouth as it breathed. He screamed. He screamed and ran. He didn’t know how far he could get considering how big it was, it had to be fast as well. He pushed himself as fast as he could which was considerable. The werewolf didn’t start giving chase until he was down the road. The werewolf gave a long eerie howl that was responded to. More of the beasts came out of the forest and onto the road, chasing after him as if he was a rabbit. He could hear others dashing through the forest, flanking him. 

He was going to be torn apart by werewolves!

Something heavy hit into his legs. His head fell back as he spun into the air as if he had just been flung. Whatever had a hold of him threw him over the heads of the werewolves who jumped on their hind legs, their jaws snapping at his hair as he screamed.

He collided with a tree, falling down, breaking several branches before he clutched onto the trunk of the tree and clung on for dear life. 

“Stop!!”

He was in tears when he heard the old man’s voice. He could see the giant creatures down below being barred by a gray haired man. They growled and paced but did not come after him.

“H-he…” He tried pushing through all the fear to raise his voice. “Help.”

The old man said something that he couldn’t hear but it turned the beasts away. The man came up under the tree, looking up at its frightened occupant.

“It’s alright lad, come down. They won’t hurt you.”

He looked around, unsure of the other’s words.

The old man held open his arms, he waved with his hands in a welcoming gesture. “I promise, you won’t be hurt.”

It took quite a bit of coxing before he slowly climbed down, staying close to the tree trunk. The old man said that his name was Oin, he kept his voice low and soothing trying to get close enough to touch.

“What’s your name, laddie?”

“I-I don’t know.” He flinched away from Oin’s hand.

“Do you know where you are?”

He vigorously shook his head.

“Do you have family?”

“I… don’t know.”

“What do you remember?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t remember anything.

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” Oin looked at the dirt all over the man’s clothing.

“N-no.”

“Then you’ll stay with me, laddie.” Oin didn’t give him a choice. For Oin, he couldn’t risk letting this being run around on its own, for the man… he had no where to go.

“Now, you can’t go around without a name.” Oin took off his jacket. He put it around the man’s shoulders. “How about I give you a nickname, something to call you by until you can remember your real one?”

“What… would you call me?”

“I think Strider sounds good. I’ve never really seen someone move as fast as you before.”

\--------------------------------

Ori hadn’t seen Dwalin in a while, not after Dwalin had to go to a friend’s funeral. With Kili gone the only person Ori got to hang out with was Dwalin and his friends that ran the car repair shop down the lane. He was getting increasingly bored. Even though the news was still buzzing about the tragedy at the hospital there was no new information as to what caused the blast. He tried getting a hold of Kili several times but his phone must have been off because he wasn’t answering it. He had tampered with the idea of going back to Frerin’s house to ask Kili face to face why the hell he hadn’t returned yet but decided against it. It looked like Kili had been dealing with a temperamental situation and Ori didn’t want to blow it out of the water. Kili always got himself into strange situations and any outsider that came into it usually only caused Kili grief. 

So Ori decided to do a random visit with Dwalin. He picked up several pizzas as a treat for all the workers at the shop and drove Kili’s car over to the shop. Nori was there, happy to take a break and eat something warm. The other workers were less hygienic than Nori who had wiped his hands off of grease before grabbing a slice, the others didn’t seem to care that they got car oil and grime on their slices as they scarfed down the free meal. 

“So,” Ori pushed a pizza box around on the table it was sitting on. “Seen Dwalin around?”

“The boss is in the back apartment.” Trent said around a mouthful.

“Best not disturb him, he’s, uh, he’s helping someone out of rehab.” Nori quickly said.

“Rehab? That’s nice of him. How long has he been doing it?”

“About a week now. Strider’s doing better,” Trent looked at Nori. 

“Strider? That his biker name or something?”

“Just a name.” Nori shrugged.

“Well, I’ll take the last pizza out back then.” Ori hopped down from his seat, snatching up the last box. That he managed to protect.

“Just leave it at the door, Strider’s still a bit jumpy.” Nori called after the redhead. He turned to Trent, “Haven’t seen the bastard eat at all, could probably eat the kid whole.”

Trent rubbed at his head smearing pizza sauce and car oil in his hair. “Oin figure out what he is yet?”

“Closest guess is a vamp or coven.”

“Fucked up if it was both.”

“I hear ya, don’t want to deal with that shit.” Nori took his rag from his pocket and spun it around before snapping it and hitting Trent in the ass. “Now get back to work rookie.”

Ori went around back to the small apartment that was settled behind the garage. He slowed when he heard the sounds of sobbing. His heart sunk. It must be the addict that Dwalin is taking care of, going through withdrawls. The poor guy… but, hopefully, with Dwalin’s help he’ll get better. He stopped outside the window where the crying was the loudest.

He pushed himself up onto his tip toes, looking through to see only long dark hair, the man’s back to him as he rocked in a chair. He frowned, why was he tied?

“Ori!”

The young man jumped, startled in being caught. “Geez! Dwalin! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” 

“I ain’t tryin’ to give you nothin’.” The tall man scowled. “What are you doin’?”

Ori held out the pizza box, “Lunch! Haven’t seen you in a while. Nori said that you were taking care of a rehab addict. That him?”

“Aye, that’s Strider.”

“Why is he tied?”

“Sometimes it’s best to tie them down or they’ll hurt themselves and others. Soon as he calms we’ll untie him.”

“Still seems inhuman.” Ori looked back through the window. “What was he on?”

“Don’t know, something strong.”

Ori’s eyes widened when he saw the man and the chair start to shake. The chair skidded to the side with a loud grinding sound of the wooden legs scraping against the wooden floor. Strider threw back his head as he yelled for something to stop, for someone to shut up. 

“It must be really bad to have that kind of reaction.”

“It is, time for you to go.”

“But-” Ori froze as Dwalin’s hand pressed to his shoulder. Strider’s chair spun around, shaking hard before flipping up into the air and hitting the ceiling. Strider’s cheek slammed against the ceiling as he simply weeped. He was dragged across the ceiling before the chair spun in circles.

“Oh my god.”

The last thing he saw was the chair suddenly falling and breaking on the floor leaving a broken man crying on the floor, splinters of wood sticking out of his leg.

“Time for you to leave, now!!” Dwalin shoved at Ori until he was in Kili’s car and driving away.

Ori went a block before stopping at a sign. What did he just see? Was that even possible? Worse yet…

He dug out his cellphone trying to call Kili once more. As usual he got the answering service. When the beep came to record his message he lost it.

“I don’t know what the hell I just saw! Kili! Where the fuck are you?! Because I’m pressure sure I just saw a guy possessed in Dwalin’s house! And I think it was that guy we stayed with, Frerin!!”


	5. Chapter 5

Kili felt a terrible ache in his muscles that tapered off to a burn. Sweat beaded down the curve of his back. He tossed his head trying to get his hair out of his face. Ever since he had met Fili he had let his hair grow, it was now long enough to curtain into his eyes, mat against his cheeks. He hissed out his breath as he pulled his body up, his chin tapping over the cold bar. He held himself for the count of ten before slowly lowering himself down then repeating.

He was tired of being weak. Tired of being helpless in this world that he thought he had figured out so long ago. He would become strong enough to battle against the darkness that hunted down his boyfriend’s family. He would beat it back, send it scattering like a warrior in a cave with a flaming torch. But to achieve that he needed to put his old life behind him. He had to focus on building up his body, concentrate on studying every leaf of paper, piece of parchment and treated vellum. He didn’t care what language he had to learn in order to read all the different writings, he would do it because he knew, he KNEW Fili wasn’t dead. Fili was out there, on his own and Kili was not going to let him suffer this alone.

Bifur had refused to teach him more than a few knife stabs and defense blocks. He told Kili he wouldn’t do it until Kili could “shapen up from a noodle to a rock.” Now he worked out every day, even with pulled muscles and bruises that felt as deep as his bones. When his body cried out in pain, screaming at him to stop he would do lighter exercises from swimming in the lake that was seven miles from Bifur’s house -walking there and back- and yoga like stretches. He had been at it for over three months, not contacting Ori, not calling even his mother. He didn’t even try go and get his cellphone from Frerin’s place. He didn’t have the heart to walk into the house, see what was left in the cold rooms. Bifur had gone alone, gathered things. Bifur had nailed the picture of Thorin that was next to Frerin’s beside, up onto the wall. Thorin looked strangely different in the uniform, he looked regal and kingly. Bifur had brought Fili’s clothing, it was all second hand, tattered and nearly threadbare but they were the closest to fitting Kili. Kili only chose a few outfits, the rest he kept in a tied plastic bag that he would fish out every once in a while and take a deep breath of the scent his body pined for. His mentor has now demonstrated he was getting concerned about Kili’s behavior, shivering at random, his eyes unfocused as his mind escaped him at times. He rarely slept unless he had fully worn himself out and when asked why, Kili clammed up. He didn’t want to tell Bifur that he would see Fili, standing in the woods, sitting on the beaten up sofa reading a book, sometimes he felt him in the bed with him, ghostly fingers trying to touch his face and hair but no contact was ever made.

“Boy!” Bifur’s bark made Kili drop he bounced on his bare feet. Kili’s hand rubbed over his neck, his palm rubbed sweat over the scar left by Fili’s feeding. He had neglected tending it, after what happened with Fili he reopened it time and time again until Bifur made him stop and it scared over.

Kili took hold of his elbow and pulled to the side in a stretch as he went out of the small house to where his mentor was sitting on his ramshackled porch, rocking in a rocking chair that was surprisingly beautifully crafted by Bifur himself. The air was bitterly cold, stinging his hot skin. The winter blanket of snow was creeping across the mountains, half of Bifur’s property was already covered in well over a foot’s worth, the rest was frozen over with frost that refused to melt in the sunlight. It prevented Kili from swimming but provided for long hikes that were just as good.

“What?” Kili bit out. He was still bitter, he had been bitter for some time now. Since Bifur had one night let it slip that he thought all their friends were dead.

“That’s over two hundred reps, take a break before you rip your muscles again.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sit the fuck down and educate yourself.” Bifur held up a book he had been reading. “Take breaks between battering your body.”

Kili huffed through his nose, he pulled on the second chair, adjusting it before he flopped himself into it. He held out his hand to have the spine of the book slapped into his palm. He carelessly flipped it open finding that it was in French. He didn’t know much about the French language, only what Bifur had taught him in the last few months since the shit hit the fan. He could only accumulate basic words and sentence structure but he had the intellect to guess what words he did not know by the ones that surrounded it. He frowned as he picked it apart slowly in his head, translating it into terms he understood.

“This is… talking about vampires?”

“Yep.”

“Thorin already told me about vampires.”

“Yep.”

Kili’s brows pulled together as a particular word kept coming up. He leaned over holding up the book, “Is this a name or a word that has no translation?”

“Name. Thror.”

Kili nodded then went back to reading. It seemed to be an account, talking about the greatness of Thror. He was a Regnum. Great in power, that lead one of the largest armies of vampires. The other two Regnum held little following when it came to Thror.

“Don’t bother about the bureaucratic bullshit, look at his line.”

“His line?” 

Bifur picked up his hot cup of thick coffee. The steam swirled up into Bifur’s eyes, “The family tree, kid.”

Kili flipped through the book, “How old is this?”

“Not very, maybe ten years. It was difficult to find one that was unedited.”

The student skipped over the family tree, flipping back he nearly dropped the book. His throat felt tight, a coldness bleeding into his chest. “How… powerful was this Thror guy?”

“You want the dumbed down version?”

“The honest, blunt version. You’re good at that.”

“You ever hear about cities in Europe suddenly going empty? Most recent one was a little village north of Brad, Romania.”

“Brad?”

“You want to hear this or not?”

Kili scowled but went quiet, pressing his lips together showing he wouldn’t interfere any further. Bifur watched him for a few moments, the cold early winter biting at them. The wind picked up pushing a snow drift across the small porch. Kili’s wet hair and sweat soaked clothing clutched onto the cold, keeping it close against his skin. 

Bifur stared Kili straight in the eye, showing how serious he was. “This village, everyone left in the dead of winter. They didn’t take anything with them, nothing from their houses. Coats still on the hangers, clothes half folded, meals served but not eaten. They didn’t even try to get anything from the church. Romanians are very religious, they would leave everything but take sacred objects from the church with them, not a thing touched. They abandoned it in fear of evil spirits, some say it was werewolves, others say a curse. What it really was that attacked them are much more dangerous than any curse. Hell Beasts. Before you ask, Hell Beasts are cousins to werewolves, but they are aimless without their master’s directing them. Thror had absolute control over the Hell Beasts, he still does. But Thror went missing a long, long time ago.”

“...How long do High Born vampires live?”

“Not a clue. They simply vanish and there are only death records of those who have been slain in battle or murdered.”

Kili’s eyes went down to the names written on the page. “...Frerin was the son of a Regnum… How often… do Regnum have families?”

“Few and far between.”

“So… with Brad… it means Thror might still be alive?”

“And what do you think will come out of it?”

“Can Hell Beasts track?”

“Kid, we’re not going down that fucking track.” Bifur pushed himself up. “Destroying your body with crazy workouts is one thing, it’s another to track down one of the world’s most dangerous creatures because you want to use them as a bloodhound for bodies that were burnt beyond ash!”

“They’re alive!” Kili shot to his feet. He confronted Bifur, getting into his personal space, chest puffed out. “There is no reason to think they are dead.”

“I say a good couple of acres of glass say otherwise. For them to survive… it’s impossible, face it, boy.”

“Less than a year ago I would say werewolves, vampires, and witches were all impossible. Finding out that some how I’ve been fed magic most of my damn life was impossible, being a vampire’s Donor was impossible. The only impossibility for me, right now, is giving up. Do you understand me, Bifur?!” Kili spat out the last word as if it was venom. 

“Do you think I don’t know what is going through you? Do you think I don’t understand? I want them to be just as alive as you do!”

“Then believe in them! Freakier shit has happened!”

“Like with you?! Because what you do is fucking unnatural even in this fucked up shit hole of a life!”

Kili balked. “What the hell was that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve never seen anyone do what I’ve seen you do. You’ve manifested twice now, first time was when you were brought to me, second was that fucking doll I pulled out of your mouth. And you look back at their magic. No one can flow against magic and look back at the users. You’re a fucking freak, Kili. And whatever you are, it ain’t human, it’s no where near coven, werewolf, vampire, or anything I’ve ever heard of before.”

Kili rubbed at the scar over his sternum. “... you said I was a wight.”

“You have the signs of one, but even that… I’m not sure of.” Bifur shook his head, stepping away from Kili. “I have no fucking clue what you are.”

The cold wind picked up once more, this time Kili could feel the chill bite into his bones. His mind empty and slowed to a stop. What the hell was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to think? He wasn’t human? He wasn’t…

He looked down to his hands, if he wasn’t human, then what was he?


	6. Chapter 6

Kili didn’t care, not any more. He had to know the truth and Bifur wasn’t offering him any answers. He found an old, worn out hiking bag and stuffed it full of cans of food, candles and lighters. He sewed together a few blankets into a cloak, put on several pairs of socks before stuffing his feet into over sized boots. He found a large bowie knife in with Bifur’s dessert spoons and strapped it to his thigh. He worked fast and quietly while Bifur slept. Once he was done he stole out into the freezing night. Snowflakes drifted down upon him, though he had the light of the moon. He wasn’t sure if that was a bad omen or a stroke of good luck. The snow would cover up his tracks, the light would let him see where he was going. He had to get down from the mountain and hitch a ride back home, back to his mom. If anyone knew anything about their family it was her. She loved her genealogy, she had boxes upon boxes of it down in the basement, maybe something in their family’s past would explain what made him so “special.”

A large, lumbering shadow followed him for a good distance. It created thumps against trees, grunts and howls. If this had been last year, he would have been terrified of it. He would have screamed and ran away, now, especially after all the stories Bifur had told him, he knew what it was doing. Bifur wasn’t insane about the Bigfoot that ruined his shed every winter, he was insane about the gnomes that lived under his porch and the gremlins that were housing themselves in his cupboards spoiling his food and breaking his dishes. The Bigfoot thing was real and following Kili until he got to the edge of the creature’s territory where Kili gave a half hearted wave of the hand and continued on.

“See you around, Harry.” He mumbled, having named the elusive creature after a bigfoot of an old 80’s movie. 

He kept walking well after dawn. He ate handfuls of snow to quench his thirst and when it was meal time he pulled a can out of his pack, opened it and ate the cold food as he walked. He tossed the empty can to the side once he was done. There was no point in carrying around garbage if he had no idea when the next receptacle would be. Hell, even Bifur had to drive his garbage to a dump because garbage service didn’t go that deep into the mountains. 

Night fell, he continued to press on, feeling the exhaust in his body. He was determined to keep going until he found a road. Just one road.

He stumbled in his steps when the moon could be seen straight above. The snow had stopped coming down and Kili was filled with an inexhaustible feeling of loneliness. He tried passing the time humming, tone deaf as he was. Eventually it melted down to talking to himself, reminiscing about home. If he could talk about it enough he could imagine the feeling of warmth from a house, smells of dinner being cooked in the kitchen. He could hear his mother humming in the kitchen as the sink ran. 

He stepped forward onto a flat surface, his eyes drifting closed. How long had he been walking? His body wasn’t used to this kind of punishment, not like this, not in this unforgiving weather.

_“Hey.”_

Kili blinked his eyes, his face numb as he shivered. 

_“What are you doing out here?” Fili’s concerned face stared back at him._

He tried to open his mouth, he lurched forward only to fall down onto his knees.

_“You should have stayed home.”_

“He won’t let me find you.” Kili’s voice was raspy from the freezing air.

_“...” Fili knelt down, sitting across from Kili. “Frerin’s cooking dinner. He would have loved the help, you didn’t need to come looking for me.”_

Kili ran his bright red fingers through his dark hair. He felt something coil inside his sanity. Something was wrong with this, wrong with him.

“Just tell me where you are, stop haunting me and tell me where you are!!” He screamed.

_“You should go back home. Frerin would really would like some help.”_

“Frerin, Frerin, Frerin!! That’s all you talk about!! Fili! Where are you?!”

_“You need to go home. We all need to go home.” Fili stood up._

Kili watched his hallucination, it was all he had left of his lover. These painful visions that will never be enough. Hot tears stung at his eyes. Fili’s palms began to bleed, the vampire looked to the side, his face splitting open as black tar and blood ran down the gouging wounds in his forehead and cheek. Kili’s body went rigid as he watched with horror. Fili’s mouth continued to split, tendon exposing before tearing from bone. From within his mouth, pushing forward was the creature from his nightmares. She kept breaking forward, hair red and long, tar dripping from her long locks. Her ears were pointed and elf like, her eyes and mouth gaping holes that forever wept the black substance. She was pulling out of Fili’s body, killing him. Kili watched Fili’s blue eyes look around as the doll started to sing as if to lull Kili towards it.

Kili screamed.

Bright lights caught sight of him, skidding to a hault. The hood of a car dissipated the horrific vision. The driver got out of the car, coming over to where Kili laid on the ground, curled up in a tight ball, screaming and crying. 

Warm hands cupped at Kili’s face. He could barely feel it, still lost in the throws of the shock of what he had witnessed.

“Can you hear me?” The man tried to smooth back Kili’s hair to get a look at his face. “Laddie, you need to take a breath for me, take a breath and look at me!”

The student could barely hear the man. He tried to do what he was told but he couldn’t. The man sat next to him, talking nonsense, making sure his voice was loud but gentle. He rocked Kili from side to side, spending long minutes that stemmed into an hour. Finally, Kili couldn’t scream any longer. His trembling dying away in fitful waves. 

The stranger helped him into the military grade jeep, made sure he was warm.

“Where are you going lad?” The man asked with thick Irish accent.

“Home.” Kili felt so tired now. So used up.

“...Right, and where would that be?”

“Chewelah.”

“That’s a good distance away.”

Kili slowly blinked, his head resting against the window of the jeep. He could feel the rattling of the glass knock his teeth together. He needed to get back home. He could get his cellphone from Frerin and Fili’s place… call his mom to pick him up. He just needed to get to Chewelah.

“Well, wouldn’t be kind of me to leave someone like you on the side of the road again seeing as it’s around Christmas. Chewelah it is. Name’s Bofur.” The dark haired man glanced over at Kili who was starting to drift off.

“Kili.” 

“Get some sleep, laddie, you look like you need it.”

\-----------------------------

“Strider, lad, what are you doing?” Oin asked his dark haired guest.

Strider didn’t like his name, he would only responded to it when Oin talked to him. He knew it was just something to go by until they could think of something better, seeing as he was only named that because he could outrun a werewolf. He had been under their care for a while now, he had yet to eat anything that he could hold down, but strangely enough, though he complained about hunger pains, his body had not thinned. It was as if food had been an option for him. Since he came strange things have happened from sounds of running in the halls, faucets turning on by themselves, dishes flying off of the counter and smashing against the wall. Every wolf heard singing of a little child’s voice, laughter, and some had even seen a small blond head dart past them only to disappear around the corner. The strange phenomenon was centered around Strider, who at times had episodes they still couldn’t explain; floating and getting stuck up on the ceiling, when he got hurt he would be fully healed the next day as they found out from a large chunk of wood went through his leg once. They had tried to restrain him that day because he was moaning too loudly, thrashing from time to time and they thought it was best for the pack if they took a precaution. They still had no idea what he was but they did find out that some times he left a trail of the finest golden glitter behind. When Oin did a full body examination he found that the golden substance came from all of him, his saliva, pours, even his hair follicles. It came and went and he wasn’t sure what it was, he was still researching what it could possibly be.

“Strider, answer me.” Oin said.

The dark haired being looked over at Oin, he had cooked up nearly the whole kitchen, looking sad and haunted. Oin gazed upon the gourmet styled dishes that littered from one counter top to the next, filling up tables and even chairs. Dwalin was going to flip out.

“I can’t- I can’t see him.” Strider went from one empty cupboard to the next opening and then closing them. 

“Can’t see who?”

“The boy, the boy, I need to see the boy.” Strider turned away from the last cupboard, wringing his hands together, sounding desperate. “I see him when I cook. Mmmy…” He rubbed his hands over his face, some of the golden glitter falling free from his dark hair. “Mmmmy boy, my body. Where is my body? Where’s my boy?”

“You… have a son?” Oin wasn’t sure what Strider was saying but he ventured that he was talking about a repressed memory from his all too prominent amnesia. 

“Mine, he’s mine.” Strider nodded. “My boy.”

“Why don’t we have a sit and you tell me about him?”

“Golden hair, blue eyes,” he was taken by his wrist and elbow by the elderly wolf, gently guided out of the kitchen and dining room. “Smart, so smart. Very smart. Special. He’s special.”

“What can he do?”

“I can’t say.” Strider felt a pulse of pain in his head. He winced, rubbing at his temple. “No good to say.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Oin slipped a hand over Strider’s back. “Are you hungry?”

The brunet gave a terrible whine in the back of his throat. He was always hungry. “Sorry, Lad.”

There was a knock on the door that made Oin wonder; who would be knocking at a time like this? He let go of his ward coming up to the door. He flicked on the porch light before cracking open the front door and peeking outside. Ori’s familiar red hair was barely seen through all the white of the snow on his head.

“Ori, lad, what are you doing here in the middle of the night?” Oin opened the door.

“I was taking Kili’s car for a test run because I figured I would go up to see if his mom has heard anything from him when I heard this rattle and popping coming from my engine. I need Dwalin and Trent to check it out before I leave in the... “ Ori’s eyes widened as he watched Strider come up behind Oin, curious as to who the new person was. “...morning…. holy shit. Frerin.”

Oin looked from Ori to Strider. “Do you know him, lad?”

Ori opened and closed his mouth several times. “Fr-, that’s, he’s…Frerin, what the hell are you doing here?”

Frerin didn’t respond only stared before moving away. Ori pushed against the door, coming inside. “No! Frerin, what are you doing here?! Last time I knew you were in Chewelah with Fili and Kili.”

“Fili?” Frerin halted. Why did he know that name? He slowly turned, tilting his head to the side and staring at Ori. Did he know this person?

“Yeah, Fili, you know, your son and why the hell is your hair black? I thought it was blond like...Fili’s…” Ori felt something shiver down his spine. There was something definitely not right going on.

“Ori… if you know Strider, or, Frerin, I think it best you stick around.” Oin closed the front door.

“W-why?”

“He has amnesia. If you know him, maybe you can jog his memory.”

Ori looked from Oin to Frerin, then back to Oin. “But I have to go check on… Kili…” Ori looked back to Frerin. The better part of his heart told him to stay, after all Frerin and Fili had helped Ori when he was having night terrors. They took him into their home, made him feel safe and warm… and who knew, maybe if he could get Frerin to remember then he could tell him what’s going on with Kili.

“I… only for a week, if I can’t do something by then, then all we can do is try to find Kili and see if he knows what the hell is happening.”


	7. Chapter 7

Bofur, Kili had decided, was a good guy. He was the opposite of Bifur’s blunt and brash approach to socialization. In fact, Bofur was always talking in soft tones, beating around the bush when trying to ask a question. Because of this technique, Kili had learned more about the stranger than the other way around. He knew that Bofur was in the Air Force for a while, he didn’t understand the ranking system but from what he could gather Bofur was training new pilots. After one guy left it became his problem and he wasn’t ready for it. Managed to punch a guy for nearly crashing his plane after Bofur had given him strict instructions and the pilot decided he knew better. Though,   
Kili couldn’t imagine Bofur slugging someone with how gentle he was. The army man told him that before his career in the Air Force he had run some sort of house, kind of like a hostel. When it was Kili’s turn to share in depth information Kili made sure to keep to himself. 

He rarely looked Bofur in the eye. The most that the man had heard the student voice were the times when he was thanking the man for paying for his meals when they stopped to eat. After all it was the last of his manors that remained intact after being with Bifur. It felt so long, so long that it felt like years not three seasons. Or maybe what made all of this feel so long was being away from Fili…

Kili scrubbed at his face. His eyes felt dry and sunken in.

“You need to get some decent sleep, laddie. Tonight we’ll spend it in a hotel. My treat.” Bofur smiled as he held out his military and debit cards to the waitress that had been serving them. She wore festive flashing buttons and Santa hat earrings. And even though Christmas music played above him he couldn’t find himself to smile or even look slightly on the cheery side, not when so much is at stake. A good night sleep may help though, not much else for them to do. They were snowed in. He had hoped that riding in a vehicle would improve his travel time greatly only… it didn’t. All the passes were snowed in. Crews with heavy machinery were working around the clock to clear enough for one traffic lane but the snow was relentless. Bofur and Kili were taking a long roundabout route that met them with detour after detour.

Kili nodded, slowly blinking as he stared down at his barely touched pancakes and eggs. He was so tired. He was constantly hearing his lover’s voice riding the edge of his hearing. Haunting him. Sometimes he thought he could hear the words, but thinking back, remembering what was said, it always escaped him. When that happened, he was certain he heard laughter, mocking him. Driving him just one more step towards the edge of insanity. He was only thankful that he had not seen Fili since that horrific moment on the road. He never wanted to see that again, the splitting of skin. The twitching of limbs. Never again did he want to see that redheaded doll. Having it come out of Fili filled him with dread and fear. He always felt sick when remembering it. 

Great, now he felt completely sick.

Kili pushed some egg around on his plate forcing his concentration on something else, on the nothingness that was all encompassing. Bit by bit, day by day, he was having to face the reality of the situation. Bifur was going to flip out when he realized that Kili took off. He would hunt him down… probably was already on his trail. Then there was the heavy possibility that all of this was for nothing. It was his own determination that blinded him to the facts. He was running on fumes and faith. In his experience, faith did little but keep your hopes up that there was actually something after this bleak life. A bleak life without love…

It was silly… no, it was downright ridiculous that he had fallen fully in love with Fili. They had only had sex once. Been together for a week, give or take a few days, yet… yet he couldn’t live without his vampire. The golden man that started at rain in the middle of the night. Who looked like a god when bathed in moon light. 

“You miss someone.” Bofur smiled in that way that said he could relate.

“Yeah.” Kili breathed out.

“What were they like?”

Maybe it was the fact he hadn’t slept well since he left Bofur’s. Maybe it was the fact that he was starved besides the fact he had food right in front of him. It could have been his need to simply hear a good word about Fili that made him talk, either way, he let himself speak to this kind hearted man. A stranger that was only trying to help.

“He was…” Kili licked his lips. “He was something special. So… so special. No one like him in the world.”

Bofur lifted his cup of lukewarm coffee to his lips. He wasn’t going to talk, not for this. It was the first time he saw any light inside in the young man. He knew that light, it was someone you loved more than any family member. That was for someone as Kili said “special.”

“He didn’t like me when we first met… actually, when we first met was so brief that… I almost forgot it was even him. It had been raining, it was cold and the beginning of spring break. I was finishing up a paper and I needed a coffee badly so I went into town, into Chewelah. I dropped my keys and he picked them up. His eyes, purest blue I have ever seen. Bright and dull at the same time, light and dark…alive and dead… all at once.” Kili started to cut at his pancakes in slow motions.

“What was he like?” Bofur watched Kili’s hands, pleased that he was trying to eat. It was saddening to think that the reason why Kili was so broken was because he might have lost this person. He had seen it so many times, especially in an old friend. The man who’s job he took over. Every morning, every time before they retired to their bunks he would have that look of always being older than he was. He spoke about his family regularly; married to a man who had a son that he had taken a quick liking to. He tried to talk to them as often as he could. He never said who it was as there were still some “good old boys” as they called them. Ones that would try to “make the homos see the error of their ways”. He was protecting himself and his family. Bofur stayed close to him at first to try to protect him. He quickly found out the man didn’t need protection at all. Instead Bofur gave him comfort in the form of a friend.

Kili put some pancake in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before answering. “He was kind of quiet. He liked to keep to himself but he would always answer your questions. We actually became friends after he threw a can of Pepsi at my head.”

“You serious?”

“He was mailing a letter in the middle of the night. I was taking a walk trying to get my mind off of him when I saw him. Well, I didn’t want to look like a stalker so I tried moving around him and I kind of scared him. He had great aim, got me right in the head. I still remember him grabbing his dad trying to make a run for it when his dad said, ‘Fili isn’t that your friend?’ Then he made him take me inside because he gave me a concussion.”

“Fili?”

“Yeah, funny how our names sound similar.” Kili actually tweaked up in a strained smile. He closed his eyes, mind leaving the cold darkness in favor of the light. He could imagine Fili right then, hands stretched out, fingers and palms brushing over tall stalks of grass. Fili looked over his shoulder, his long hair brushing over his cheek. He was beautiful. Feeling his mind full of warmth, it felt so good, so relaxing since all he knew was snow and ash in his heart since… since…

Suddenly a fist slammed down next to his plate making the whole table rattle. Kili jerked back, eyes wide. His heart crashed into his throat. Sitting next to Bofur was Fili, a stitched seam ran up a jagged line down the corners of his mouth to his jaw, circling around on his neck. Dark flacks of blood speckled the long grotesque wound. Kili dropped his fork and knife in favor for gripping his hair. His head filled with a cold pain that was worse than winter’s freeze. Images of Fili being ripped in half filled his broken mind as Fili leaned over the table shouting with bloodied spittle flying from this lips. It almost sounded like a taunt.

“Listen! Listen! Listen!!”

For Bofur the whole table started to shake and rattle, Kili grabbed his head. He hissed as tears came out of eyes so tightly closed it must be painful. The lad was so broken. He leaned over and placed a hand on his young companion’s shoulder. 

“Easy now, laddie.” He spoke softly. 

“LISTEN!!! KILI! LISTEN!!” Fili climbed onto the table, while shouting.

Kili tried to block out the sound of Fili’s voice, he refused to open his eyes trying hard not to see his beloved mangled and bloodied.

Bofur got up from his seat, coming around and sliding up beside Kili. “Hey, laddie, listen to me. It’s alright. Fili is still out there. We’ll find him, if…” Bofur pushed at Kili getting further onto the bench, adjusting the young man. “Look at me, lad.” His soft voice turned stern. No one acted like this unless they had done something terrible, or believed they did. 

Kili barely opened his eyes as far as he could, tears running down his cheeks.

“What did you do, lad?”

 

“I left him. I left him and Frerin.” A terrible cry ripped from Kili’s throat. He clutched at Bofur’s shoulders as he cried louder. “I left them! I shouldn’t have left them!!”

Bofur felt the world stop. Fili… Frerin… He knew those names. He knew them. He slowly wrapped his arms around Kili, holding him tight. Something happened to Fili and Frerin? What had happened?


	8. Chapter 8

“Why isn’t he remembering anything?” Dwalin grumbled, not comfortable with Ori sitting with Strider, even though they were in line of sight. “It’s been a few days and Ori’s practically living here to jog his memory! Says his name is Frerin but he doesn’t respond to that at all, only Strider. Why?”

 

“Amnesia doesn’t come and go as it pleases.” Oin snapped. Dwalin may be the alpha but Oin was the doctor of their pack. He took care of all of them, from illness and injury to mental and emotional. This was the toughest case he had ever experienced and he was running thin on patience with the other werewolves. If it wasn’t one thing it was another; When will he remember who he is? What is he? How the hell does Ori know him? Did you hear that Kili was friends with this guy’s son? Is his son just like him? How dangerous is he? And the questions simply kept coming. “Ori barely knows him, he’s been trying to say what he can but I honestly think we should go up to this Chewelah place with Ori and bring him with us. Take him home, see if it joggs any memories.”

 

“I don’t like it.”

 

“You don’t like anything.” Trent mumbled from the shop’s coffee pot that was still brewing.

 

Dwalin sent the pup a glare, promising punishment later on.

 

“He’s got a point.” Nori scratched under the hem of his woolen cap, smearing car grease in his red hair. “Well, both of you do. Dwalin, you really don’t like anything, but Trent, he’s also got a point that it’s Christmas rush season, not to mention we would have to go over a pass in the mountains. With how bad this winter is it’ll be a bitch to get around.”

 

Oin snorted. “And we’re all just going to sit around while we wonder how this creature has come to us and is the last seen living thing around Kili since Ori got back.”

 

Dwalin swallowed. Memories of an engine running, the taste of carbon monoxide bitter on his tongue. It was dark and he was hoping that killing himself would rid him of the responsibilities of inheriting a drug and crime riddled pack. He had been so wrapped up in his own depression and the need to run that he had not shut the garage door all the way. It was only luck, or maybe it was only Kili being himself that brought the brunet around. He saw something amiss. Crawled in through the narrow space between the driveway and the garage door, wiggling on his belly. He saw Dwalin in the car. Opened up the garage, broke every window in the car when he couldn’t drag Dwalin’s heavy set frame out of the driver’s seat. The car was turned off and the paramedics called.

 

Kili had visited him in the hospital. He had come by his house after he was released. He didn’t expect him to do anything, except let Kili be around. Dwalin did try to chase him off but it only made him more aggravated. He fell back into dangerous old habits as his pack fell apart.

 

They didn’t see him as strong, they saw him weak. Some tried to take him on, others left. He got into many fights that landed him into the hospital. He started up a heavier regiment of drugs to try to forget. He drank more than ever with mixtures of alcohol that made people vomit from smelling his concoctions. And then there was Kili. Kili always visiting him in the hospital. Kili always getting on his case for his fights. Kili pushing him into rehab. Kili wondering into crack houses to fish Dwalin out… Kili… Kili coated in blood because he got beat up from one of Dwalin’s rogue wolves. Kili almost killed from a curb check… Kili forgiving him… making a difference, making him stronger, giving him confidence to clean up his life, to clean up his pack.

 

He watched Ori pull his sketch book out of his backpack.

 

“I want you to look at something for me.” Ori’s soft voice reminded him of the friend he was leaving out in this cold and cruel world. Kili always had a gentle touch when it came to helping.

 

Ori flipped through his sketchbook. He pulled out a picture, it was one of Kili, his hair long with half of it pinned up. He was smiling with a beer bottle in one hand, the other stretched forward as if to push the person with the camera out of if his face. Ori’s hold lingered on the photo, it was the first time that he felt comfortable enough to call Kili his friend, to take a photo of him.

 

“Here,” he held out the photo to the man next to him.

 

Frerin was currently chewing on the frayed cuff of his slate colored shirt. The soft material reminded him of something, he didn’t know what, but it was nice… warm… He was bouncing one of his knees when Ori showed him the photo. An uneasy feeling clutched at his stomach. The boy in the picture didn’t look familiar but at the same time he did. It was as if he was there and not, a shadow inside a dark room.

 

A shadow that could move.

 

A shadow that could whisper.

 

A shadow that could touch.

 

“Does he look familiar?” Ori kept his voice level.

 

Frerin shook his head, some how curling up a bit more on himself which made Ori wonder how that was possible. He was already almost doubled over at a strange angle while he squirmed with discomfort.

 

“Please, look again. Just look, don’t try to force yourself to remember, let the memory come to you instead.”

 

Dark eyes lingered on the photo. The pull of the lips into a smile, the color of the hair… it was dark. Dark like the night…

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, the tease of a memory pulled at the edge of his mind.

 

_”You’re coming over for the weekend.” A man stood at by large windows, moon light barely fell onto the floor. Frerin couldn’t see his face, only his chin and lips distorted by shadow. Rain began to tick against the glass. He hung up the phone and continued to look outside as the rain picked up, washing up against the window._

 

_Frerin pulled at the cuff of his shirt. He leaned his chin in his palm, his other hand still playing at the fabric. “I don’t like this.”_

 

_“You don’t have to like it.”_

 

_“Don’t get short with me. I get it that he’s your friend but you know that we need to keep our ‘friends’ at a distance. Having---- stay the night is only going to cause trouble.” When he said the name his voice seemed to fade out like a lost radio signal, coming back when the word had ended._

 

_The man shifted, looking uncomfortable and scared as he rubbed at his arms. “I… I know… I… the dreams won’t stop and if I help him then maybe they will.”_

 

 

_“Is it the doll house again?”_

 

 

_He nodded slowly, biting his bottom lip. “He keeps… he keeps watching---- hovering around that damned blue doll house. He mumbles and mutters, raving like a mad man whose voice can only be heard by the deaf.” He twitched horribly as if he wanted to hit his own head to get an image out. “He won’t shut up. He-” The man shifted his weight, arms hugging himself as he tried to look smaller. His voice dipped into a whisper. His fear made Frerin feel helpless. “He has long fingers w-with too many joints, fluttering like spider legs over the house. His nails tick against the side as if he-he’s trying to get in and the whole time---- is in there. I-”_

 

_The phone rang in his hand._

 

Everything shifted from the memory, the present rushed into him winding him as if someone slammed the breaks in a car and the seatbelt was the only thing keeping him still. A hand came to his shoulder, the fingers long and thin. Black stitches kept knobby knuckles together as if the digits were so delicate that any movement would pull it apart. Some of the nails were black and purple, one was hanging on only half way, peeling away from reddened skin.

 

Frerin’s eyes widened as the hand rubbed over his upper arm revealing one knuckle at a time. There were three more knuckles than normal fingers. They were too long. Too thin.

 

The smoothing action of the rub angled up towards his shoulder. The fingers flickered into an unnatural movement. The hand standing up, it bent and turned showing the palm. Only there was a small face nestled in the middle of sinew and muscle. The broken porcelain looked hollow with a roaming eye deep within. It ran up his shoulder. Frerin let out a frightened shout, he tried knocking the creature off of him as he scrambled over the edge of the couch. He fell with a hard thump to the floor. His legs kicked out, pushing him across the carpet. His eyes quickly tried to find wherever that thing was. He scrambled up onto his hands, sitting up, panting. He whipped his head one side to the other over and over again trying to find where it had gone.

 

“Frerin. Frerin.” Ori was looking at him from the couch looking rather scared.

 

“Strider?” Dwalin was standing over him, his usually grizzly face had a bit of worry.

 

“Where did it go?” Frerin breathed.

 

“Where did what go?” Ori asked, glancing at Dwalin.

 

“The thing, that thing that was crawling on me!”

 

“The spider?” Dwalin frowned.

 

“Spider?” Frerin sat up fully, digging his fingers in his dark hair. What was going on? What was that thing? How come people are acting like they didn’t see it? What was on him was no spider!

 

“A white spider. Didn’t know you had arachnophobia.” Ori said.

 

A white… spider?

 

“Just take a breath, Strider.” Trent called from the doorway. “Need a cup of Joe to help you collect your thoughts and calm down?”

 

Something in Frerin raised up; a need, a necessity. The doll house. That hand…

 

_“...I think it’s the Collective.”_

 

_“You’re my, son, and if I have to burn the world for you to be happy, then so be it.”_

 

_“Daddy.”_

 

That’s right, he did have a son, like Ori said. His pride. His joy. His boy… His boy who needed help. Why did he need help?

 

“I need to go.” Frerin pushed himself up to his feet. He started to head for the door.

 

Dwalin stepped in his way, “Now hold on a minute.”

 

“I need to go, Dwalin.”

 

“To where?”

 

“Chewelah.”


	9. Chapter 9

There was a feeling that he couldn't shake. It was persistent even through the numbness that ate away at his mind like a hungry worm feasting on a molded sweet cake. He didn't know how to identify it. It was foreign to the use of words. It was not the anticipation of falling after taking a step only to have his foot fall through. It was the sort of numbness that came in anticipation of being told the kind of bad news that crumbled the world around you leaving you naked and bare to the cruelty of the beasts of reality. Not even the memories of Fili distracted him. His empty mind was still as water with a surface smooth as glass. His arms were wrapped around a hotel pillow as he laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, unable to feel the warmth of the blankets being tucked around him. If he had his mind about him he would note how kind Bofur was being. How tender he was in his movements and holds. He had even taken a rag and warm soapy water to wash the young man from head to toe before dressing him in newly bought clothing to replace his ratty old ones. After crying in the Diner Kili simply shut down. He didn’t respond to anything, only slowly blinked. Bofur figured the world slammed into him, events too traumatic to accept were now beating him down. It wasn’t often something like this happened, but Bofur had seen it before when he was in the air force. He knew how to handle it, for the most part, but the main work would have to be done by the one truly suffering. 

He sighed and laid next to Kili on the large bed. He dug out his wallet and started to flip through beaten and battered photos of old army buddies. 

“I knew a Fili once.” He kept his voice low. “Sweet kid, had a dad named Frerin too. Loved that boy more than anything else in the world. Did a lot for him, more than anyone would like to admit.” Bofur came across an old photo that he pulled out. In it was a thin boy, blond as sunlight wearing a red goofy christmas sweater. Next to the boy was a raven haired young man, crouched over, arm around his shoulders grinning like an idiot with a blue sweater and fabric reindeer antlers. On the other side of the boy was Bofur, funny hat on his head, a long scarf with an ever more hideous sweater on. They all looked so happy, and Bofur remembered that day well. They were happy. 

“See that little tyke?” Bofur pointed in the middle. “That’s Fili. Smart kid, always liked to use his hands, nervous as a basket of cats when his dad would be away from him for longer than a few hours.” He chuckled. “Kicked me in the lads once. Told his dad he needed to work harder at my House and stop distracting the Candies.” Bofur swiped the pad of his thumb under his nose. “Candies are… well, first off I’m assuming you know something about vampires as I’m more than certain there are only one Fili and one Frerin combination out there.”

He felt Kili shift next to him. He looked over to find Kili had moved his head to look at the picture. 

It was silent for a long time before Kili spoke in a gravelly voice, “Frerin looks different.”

“He was pretty young then.” Bofur adjusted himself so that it was easier to share the photo. “Now, at that time I was running a House. Had lots of Candies, and Candies are the humans that wanted to give blood to vampire clients. Softs are the ones that give just blood and Hards were for giving more than just blood if you know what I mean.”

Kili nodded slowly.

“So the Candies loved both of them, mostly because they were pretty good guys but if we’re honest it was because both are pretty good lookers.” He gave Kili a wink. “It didn’t help that Fili was shy. Candies flocked to that like bees to honey. I had to keep Fili in my office when it was working hours of nothing would get done! I had to distract him because his dad was out of his line of sight. Taught him a lot about toy making, carving wood and putting in the tiny gears. He loved it.” Bofur heaved a heavy sigh. “But, sadly, the House was closed down, had to send everyone off and I never knew what became of them… What were they like when you were with them?”

“...Close… real close.”

Bofur smiled. “Aye, and I believe they always will be.”

Kili swallowed. He couldn’t think of them as dead, they couldn’t be dead. He had to push forward, get to Chewelah, find his stuff, find clues as to where he could find Bilbo and maybe Bilbo could help him tame a hound. A hound that would surely be attracted to Frerin, if Bifur’s story was true. And wherever Frerin was, Fili couldn’t be far. He just needed a clue, any clue, anything to hold onto that showed that there was hope other than the flickering light that was dying in his chest. 

“I’m…”

Bofur set himself up onto one elbow, looking down at the once college student. He stayed quiet, giving Kili the time to talk. 

“I’m Fili’s Donor.”

Bofur smiled, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he flopped down on top of Kili scooping him up into a fierce hug. “Welcome to the family lad!”

Kili couldn’t help himself in feeling better after that. He couldn’t help the words that came out next, talking about how he met Fili, the two sat up and simply talked throughout the night, exchanging stories. That little flame of hope flickered a bit brighter, a little stronger with each one shared. The one thing that Kili found strange was that he didn’t find it odd that he was talking to a vampire. Yes, Bofur didn’t say he was one, but as Thorin had taught him only natural born could become House owners. It brought to him a feeling of normality which ushered in a longing.

“Some times… I wish things could go back to normal, be the way they used to be before… before all this.” Kili waved a hand in the air.

“Aye. I know what you mean lad.” Bofur ran his hand through his hair. “I wish I still had my House. I miss hearing the laughter, hearing muffled conversations and music through the walls… the smell of the subtle fragrances that the Candies would spritz onto their necks and shoulders… Miss it all.”

“Why did your House shut down?”

“Some big wig named Legolas, newly appointed Keeper. Didn’t like Houses within certain districts and closed us down. Frerin was pretty pissed off, not too sure why, said it was an abuse of our rites. He tried to keep us open but ‘mysteriously’ we were ransacked and the House was set on fire. It didn’t burn down the place, no one died, but the cost to fix everything was too much, we had to leave it all.”

Kili leaned back against the wall. “I don’t know much about vampire laws but Frerin was a Keeper, from what I know he was a good one too.”

“He was?”

“You didn’t know that?”

“Lad, not a lot of the lower ranks know who is in power above our heads. We know the positions of power and if we’re lucky we get to know who rules over us. I only know Legolas’ name because he was the one takin’ everything from us.”

Kili went silent. It sounded a lot like human politics. It was strange how similar and yet different their worlds were. 

“How did you… How did you end up in the Air Force?”

“Needed a job.” Bofur slid down the bed to lay down. He was getting pretty tired. “A buddy, Balin, was already in the Air Force. He got me in, I worked hard, and got myself to where I am now. Pay is low and I get stationed in places that have long winter nights and come home on leave time and again thanks to General Thranduil.” Bofur looked up at Kili. “That’s another thing you should know; we, vampires, will put someone in power in the military forces to watch over our own. No one knows the wiser, but they keep us safe from the sun and such.”

Thranduil… Why should Kili know that name?

“Get some sleep lad, tomorrow we should reach Chewelah.”

“I’ll show you where you can drop me off.”

Bofur snorted. “Drop you off? You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Kili felt the corners of his mouth tug into a small smile. “Bofur?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_The hand brushed over his face, soft and gentle. Lips pressed against the corner of his mouth as if asking permission to deepen it. The brush of beard whiskers through his own facial hair was a strange situation that made him shiver. His breath shuddered, shaking his whole body in tantalizing shivers. He shouldn’t feel this way. Shouldn’t have his heart beating like a race horse’s hoofs on a track when he was standing still. All that was there was **him**. Their bodies pressed. He allowed those lips to make full contact, an innocent press. It was himself that shyly pushed his tongue into the man’s mouth, barely past the teeth. They kissed in mirrored temperance. His hands slid up strong sides, circling around and holding tight. The man he kissed cupped his face, moving ever so slightly as if afraid that this would stop._

A white shock of pain filled his head, bright lights glaring into his memory trying to wash out black hair and blue eyes.

 _”Frerin.”_

It echoed in his mind deeply resonating, getting louder instead of softer like an echo. 

_”I’ll keep you safe.”_

The voice was getting so loud. He held his head, bowing forward. He bounced his knee as he gritted his teeth. Why was remembering so painful?!

_”Frerin-in-n-n.”_

God! So loud! His head was going to pop!!

“STRIDER!” Dwalin’s thick hand smacked against his back jolting him back into reality.

The dark haired man looked up, the pain suddenly gone. Dwalin’s hand remained on his back, the werewolf alpha stared at him with wide eyes as the car they were in slowly pushed through the deep grooves in the snow. 

“You okay?” Ori asked from behind the steering wheel.

“I… I am.” Frerin swallowed, his throat dry and scratchy. “How, how much farther?”

“With these conditions, another hour, at least.” Ori sighed as they pushed along trying to get to the main highway. “That’s just to get to the highway, another hour to drive there and who knows what kind of road conditions they’ll have.”

“It doesn’t matter, just as long as we get there.” Frerin hugged himself, looking pale and sickly. 

Oin sat in the front passenger seat, he looked back at his charge. He was getting worried. Frerin hasn’t eaten since they met without vomiting. He rarely drank. He was getting weaker and Oin had no idea how to help him. He was hoping that they could find some clue as to help him soon as they got to Chewelah.


	10. Chapter 10

The roads were dark, a long pathway cut in the tall pine forest with a thick blanket of snow. Frerin could feel it, something deep inside that was almost like a twinkling light. It was a spark that promised much more. The small car was slowly making up the peak of the hill. 

_”What do you think?”_

_”Why are we hear again? I thought it was a bad idea to stay in one place twice.”_

“Because you always found it to be home.” He murmured, breath fogging the window he was pressed up against. He closed his eyes and gripped a hand over his heart. Something so strong was beating inside, a desire, a need to make things better. To make…

_”...”_

_”Say something, please?”_

“We’re almost there.” Ori spoke up from behind the wheel. “Wish this car was better in snow.”

“Just take it easy, the town isn’t going anywhere.” Dwalin grunted. 

Frerin continued to clutch at his chest, breathing started to become a difficult thing to do. 

_”What do you want me to say?! My Donor is dead and buried in that cemetery right there! Right there!! That one chance at happiness was ripped away from me because the fucking universe decided it needed to shit on me more than it already has with those **things** that spawned me! I fucked you up-”_

_”Now you listen here, Fili Blacklock Oakenshield!”_

_”Blacklock is your maiden name why the hell is it my middle name?!”_

_”Don’t you change the subject, son!”_

“Take it easy, lad. We’re almost there.” Oin said softly, hearing the labored breathing. 

“So, um…” Ori crested over the top of the hill, a few miles down hill and they would hit the Indian Reservation before entering Chewelah. They were so close and he was nervous. More than that, he was scared as to what he would find. Then there was Frerin who looked like he was about to have a heart attack or was in the middle of one. He shot a glance over towards Oin, “Is that normal or…?”

“It’s the beginnings of a panic attack, just keep your voice calm and let him know you’re here. If he has one then we ride it out.”

“Okay… okay!”

“Are **you** okay?” Oin watched the tail end of the reservation go by, barely noticing a Cemetary road sign caked with ice. 

“I’m okay. I’m fine! I’m-I’m- so how come you call him Strider, Dwalin?”

Dwalin smirked a little. “It’s okay to admit you’re scared, Ori. We’re all scared for Kili… and to answer your question-”

_”I’m not your son!!”_

_”...”_

_”...I’m sorry. Dad… Daddy, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”_

_”Don’t talk to me until we get home.”_

“Stop the car!!” Frerin screamed startling Ori. The redhead swerved on the icy road, slamming two feet on the breaks. They were still sliding to a halt as Frerin yelled at the top of his lungs while yanking on the door lever, “Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!”

“Frerin, calm down, we’re almost there.” Oin tried while Dwalin grabbed at the hands of his strange ward. 

“Strider!!” Dwalin dodged a flailing hand. 

Frerin kicked the door, it crumpled like heavy foil, bending and twisting from the force that broke it off the lock and hinges. 

“JESUS!!” Ori screamed, going from between ducking his head to sneaking a peek at what was happening. 

“Let- me- OUT!!” Frerin yanked himself away from Dwalin and out, running as fast as he could into the world of black night and white snow. 

“DRIVE!!” Dwalin commanded. 

“Y-yes, sir!!” Ori stomped both of his feet on the gas petal. The tires spun out.

“I said DRIVE!”

“I know what you said!! Don’t pressure me!!” Ori screamed back. He took a deep breath, then gently pressed on the gas and eased them out of the snow. He pressed harder soon as he felt the tires loosen, picking up his speed. “Where the hell did he go?!”

“That’s why we call him Strider, he runs faster than a hell hounds!” Dwalin barked. “Fuck! Did we lose him?! Ori, go to his house, if we’re lucky that’s where he went.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Kili remembered getting into the car, feeling much better even though the truth of his new world hung around him like a shroud. He remembered the feel of the snow crunching under his boots, the thudding of tapping the side of his feet on the car door to knock snow loose. Strangely enough he could remember the smooth sensation of pulling the seatbelt over his shoulder. He could remember the long, dark, drive only lit up by the headlights with flecks of snow racing towards them. Then things changed. Perhaps he fell asleep, nodding off to the rhythmic sounds of the windshield wipers and the comfort of Bofur’s humming. It was the only thing he could think of that spiraled his world into what it was now. 

His head bobbed and he jerked awake to find everything different. He was in a car, yes, but it was made of plastic, an army green. He looked around finding not Bofur behind the wheel but a tilted still figure of a toy army man. There was a sudden tilt that knocked him towards the door. He braced himself, smacking into it as everything came to a stop. The closest thing he could think of to describe the feeling was when a child was playing with his little car that had been missing a wheel, pushing it along, stabilizing it, then, suddenly letting go to run off. 

“No.” Kili scrambled out of the jeep, up onto his own feet. His hands went up into his hair as he saw what the car was on; a child’s play mat. “Nooo.”

The play mat had blocks on it to form crude houses covered in something white that drifted down from the endless black above. 

“Shit!” He screamed. He had hoped he the doll dreams would have stopped, he hadn’t had one in so long. Why was he getting one now?

He put his hands on the hood of the toy car, he leaned on them trying to gather his mind. These dreams… they never made sense, but they always terrified him. Why were children’s playthings so prominent? Why did they feel so real? There had to be a reason. There was always a reason for things, that was the number one thing he had learned in life. So… he had to look at the details, figure this out.

One, child toys were always there.

Two, they always made him scared.

Three, there was always the feeling of being watched.

Four, each one happened around...

He blinked several times. What was he thinking? He lifted up his hands, his palms and fingers were white. He looked up at the snowing sky.

How did he get here?

He breathed in the familiar scent before sniffing his hands. Chalk. Why was it snowing chalk?

The flitting giggle of a child ran a chill down his spine. Kili whirled around, eyes wide as he tried to see where the noise had come from.

“Hello?” He called out.

_“Hey, come here kid!”_

That voice was familiar. That was really familiar.

_”Hey!!”_ This voice echoed from loud to quiet as if someone was running past him.

Kili knew that voice! He knew it!!

The giggling was farther away, sounding more stressed, forced.

_”Where have you been?”_

That was it! Frerin!

Kili picked up his feet and ran down the plastic foam road. Where Frerin could be found Fili was bound to be! He could find him!

“Frerin?! FILI?!!” He shouted. 

As he ran the little block buildings turned into popsicle stick huts, broken and splintered. He slowed his pace down to a walk, looking around the eerie shambles that now surrounded him.

“Fili?” He whispered, hearing the laugh once more, but now it was mixed with sorrow. It tapered off into a sob. 

He slowly walked, eyes up to the houses that only decayed the farther he went. Inside were little chairs and tables, dolls and stuffed animals sitting down to blank plastic televisions. Little kitchens had painted on fires with screaming clary figures. He was so busy looking at everything else he almost bumped into the play fire truck that was positioned with little dalmatians dressed up as firemen climbing the ladder. 

What was happening here? 

It almost seemed like a story was being told. 

He looked over, across the street, inside he could see the same animals, same dolls, same clay figures. Kili turned around. Each house… it was the same house, only slightly different, small changes here and there. A room missing, a window moved, a door once here now there. And looking from where he had come from up until now, the house was solid and small, brightly painted but as he got farther down the street it got bigger, more rickety, paint peeled away to bare wood. From wooden blocks to popsicle sticks, broken, splintered… fractured. 

_”If you can’t do something this simple then what use will you be?”_

Who’s voice was that? 

Kili walked down a few houses trying to find where he had heard the voice. He found a larger house, a window was on the front. He stepped off of the road onto the sticker lawn. He had to stand on his tip toes to see the whole of the room inside through the window but he could see a little toy figure of a toddler sitting on the floor. Two, tall, blonde figures stood around him, one looked upset, the other, more feminine, seemed worried. 

A heavy metallic sound clanged behind Kili. He jerked to one side to see what it had been, what he saw was the same woman figure from in the house with the toddler in her arms, posed as if running as fast as she could. Behind her was a large stuffed wolf. It would have been silly looking if it wasn’t for the fear that was making Kili’s heart start racing. He looked at the little toddler toy feeling a terrible grief. Then he saw where they were running to and the blood ran from his face. 

“No!” He started running towards them. “Don’t go there!!”

The sides of the huge, baby blue, doll house started to open. The same house he had dreamed of before. They were heading right for it!

“Stop!!” 

The toys were moving now, keeping the same distance away from Kili as he tried to move faster. Clay and plastic melded into flesh and cloth, the stuffed wolf twisted into long, naked limbs and a distorted face that bared long teeth.

They were running down a real street, in the night. The woman was huffing and sobbing as she clutched her child to her chest. He long, golden hair got caught by the snapping maw. The werewolf like creature yanked on her, sending her to the ground. In desperation she tried to throw her little one out of reach from the beast. The toddle hit the hard ground, rolling and thumping against the curb of the street. He gave a loud wail as his mother screamed.

Kili woke with a start, his head hitting the glass of the window while his knee slammed into the glove box. His hands clutched his head as Bofur swerved on the ice road.

“What the-” Bofur shouted. 

Kili hissed as his knee and head throbbed.

“You shouldn’t be scarrin’ your driver like that!” 

“Sorry.” Kili rubbed at his head. “...Sorry.”

“Havin’ a nightmare, were we?” 

“You could say that.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.” Kili felt his stomach twist at the idea of voicing what he had just seen in his dreamscape. 

“Fair enough, not much time to talk anyway.” Bofur turned a corner, slowing his vehicle down. “Welcome back to Chewelah.”


	11. Chapter 11

\----------------------------  
The night after Kili left  
\----------------------------

When Bifur figured out that Kili had ran away he screamed so loud that even Harry, the sasquatch, who was inside Bifur’s shed, made a run for it back into the woods. He threw a chair through his window, screaming obscenities that, at first would make a sailor balk, then they died into incoherent mangled sentences. 

He yanked off a rickety cupboard door. Took out cans of food before violently shoving them into a military grade pack. He was so angry, that while he grabbed his things he had to stop to throw up. To him, Kili had taken everything Bifur had done for him and had thrown it into his face. Kili had deliberately left at a time that the weather would cover up his tracks and it would be some time before he could go looking for him. The stupid kid was running off to what Bifur believed to being a suicide mission. He was going to try to tame something he couldn’t. He was going to go and get himself killed all because he wanted to believe that their vampire friends were still alive.

Bifur stuffed his arms into a thick coat. He shrugged on his pack and grabbed his gun. 

Fili. Thorin. Frerin. They were dead. Dead and gone and Bifur would be damned if he let Kili die off so quickly.

He would have to travel down to town before he could do much of anything. He barely had electricity on the better days of winter. His heat mainly was a woodstove. He had a landline telephone that worked off and on. He had to get into town, then, he could contact Bilbo. After what had happened with the hospital Bifur had fallen out of contact with the witch. He pulled a hat over his head as he headed out into the building snowstorm. He would get a hold of Bilbo. Have him keep an eye on Frerin’s old home, Kili may head over there. If so, Bilbo could hold the stupid kid there until Bifur could get there himself. After a few good pistol whippings to Kili’s thick skull, Bifur would then calmly explain why Kili was a fucking moron. 

He cocked his gun. He only hoped that he wouldn’t have to fight a bear on his way to town. He was snowed in and that damn sasquatch had broken his skies last winter. He had to go by foot, which would take its time.

\----------------------------  
Present  
\----------------------------

Frerin threw open the the door to the cold and dark house, panting from running. He stepped into the house seeing a patched up hole on the floor. Looking at it gave him an interesting ache in his knuckles and something connected. 

He had done that. Why had he done that?

He went farther into the house, eyes lingering on the patch.

The front door lead into a small hallway, two doors on either side before opening up to what looked like a kitchen large enough to be used as a dining room. He stopped by the first door, hand grasping the doorknob. He pushed it open finding a small bedroom, sparsely decorated with generic posters. There was a computer up against the wall as well as a small book shelf. He went into the room. There was a bed pushed up against another wall, close to the door and the light switch. He had a brief memory of Fili, laying on the bed with a book and lazily looking up at him with a cheeky grin as Frerin told him to go to sleep. All that was a memory of light and warmth, reality would have him see the room through the blue-gray haze of the winter raising sun and see the dark, dried stain on sheets, blankets thrown to the side.

His hands shook as he bent over, his hair draping over his shoulders as he pushed his fingers against the stain to have it flake up. All he could think of was that sweet summer face contorted in fear and pain. He quickly stepped back, pressing the back of his wrist up against his lips as he felt his insides flip. Frerin quickly left the room, taking a moment to breath in the hallway. What happened? He knew that it was blood on the bed, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what had happened. Where was the man he called son? Why was there blood on the bed?

He ignored the sliding sound of tires stopping outside as he went into the next room. This one… it was pretty familiar. A decorative sheet had been turned into a curtain, hung over the window. There were paintings, cheap ones that could be found at thrift stores and yard sales. It was a poor room just like the first, but it showed a level of comfort. The bed was messy, blankets thrown around, a picture that was once on the end table had been knocked over onto the floor. He bent down, picking up the picture, turning it around to see a soldier, decorated with metals, hair shaved short. He traced his fingers over the glass, a spark of electricity ran through his body, settling in his stomach. He remembered this one, this man… He was important to him, so important to both of them. He hugged the picture to his chest as memories came back, popping up like popcorn, one right after the other. Thorin. the man in the picture was Thorin. He was… He was his husband! Thorin joined the airforce! He did it to use military connections to protect him and Fili! Fili! Fili really was his son!

People were coming into the house, it was Dwalin and Oin and Ori. Werewolves and a human. He let out a startling laugh as he pressed a palm to his head. How could he have forgotten all of this? How could he have forgotten his world, his son, his husband?

“Strider!” Dwalin barked. “You can’t just run off like that!”

“Dwalin!” Frerin smiled, actually smiled for the first time in all the time the werewolf had known him. Frerin went up to him, grabbed him by the shoulder in a show of excitement. “I remember.”

“You, you remember?” Dwalin’s eyes grew a little wider.

Frerin nodded. His voice dipping down to almost a whisper as he poked his index finger, still holding Thorin’s picture, at Dwalin’s chest. “I have a son. I have a husband.”

“You have a husband?” Dwalin raised a brow, as if that asked his question on if Frerin was actually homosexual.

“He’s my Donor. My Donor, Dwalin!” Frerin shook Dwalin’s shoulder with excitement which nearly shook him off his feet.

“Frerin,” The voice was familiar, yet foreign. It was one that he could recognize but only in passing. It was the breathy way that his name was spoken that made him turn. In the open door way stood two people; one he had not seen in a very long time, the other he had not seen enough of.

Before he could say the name of either person, his arms became full. A dark, messy, head of hair was pushed under his chin as surprisingly strong arms squeezed him close. 

“I knew you weren’t dead. I knew it.” 

“Kili.” Frerin’s fatherly nature overtook him. He hugged the youth close, his voice breaking. “It’s good to see you.”

“By the Maker’s hand. We thought you were dead, laddie.” Bofur gaped. 

“Kili? Kili, where have you been?!” Ori slapped his hand over Kili’s shoulder while his fellow student continued to hold onto Frerin. “I’ve been worried sick! Not to mention that fucking creepy doll of yours is still in the dorm! You left me alone with that damn thing!”

“Ori? What are you doing here?” 

“Looking for you, you idiot!” Ori hit him again, this time harder making Kili release Frerin. “You’re such an asshole!”

“I-”

“I had to get Dwalin to help me and then I found this amnesia patient who was like, possessed or some shit!” Ori pointed at Dwalin who was hanging back, not sure what to do, then to Frerin. He hit Kili once more. “Do you know how scary it is to see someone go Exorcist through a window?!”

“Will you stop hitting me, Ori?!” Kili threw up his arms in defense. 

“You’re a dick!! I thought you were kidnapped or dead, or something else!!!” Ori went to whack him again.

“Ow! Okay! Okay! I get it. I’m a dickwad! I’m sorry!”

“Ori. Ori!” Dwalin caught the redhead’s wrists. “I think he’s had enough.”

“Can everyone just calm down?” Bofur nearly yelled to gain everyone’s attention. Once they had settled and Dwalin didn’t need to hold Ori back any more Bofur continued. “It’s obvious that there is a lot of catching up to do and a lot of blanks that need to be filled.”

“More than you know.” Frerin mumbled.


	12. Chapter 12

The house was cold, the lack of heat suppressed the reek of rotting foods and the crisp blood on the bed. There was a disturbing feeling of the house. The panic that took Frerin and Kili away from it was stabbing at their nerves making their eyes dart from side to side. 

“You have to tell me what happened.” Kili had a firm hand on Frerin’s elbow, voice hushed as if the dead walls were listening. “After Thorin took me to Bifur, what happened to you? Where’s Fili, where’s Thorin?”

Frerin bowed his head, leaning in close as the people they were with wondered about the sudden secrecy. 

“I have no idea where they are. I was hoping you would…”

“Strider.” Dwalin broke the eerie silence. “We should go.”

“To somewhere… less haunted.” Bofur was looking up at the shadows that clung to the ceiling. There was something off about it, something unsettling. The longer he stayed the more it felt as if he was being watched. It was a strange feeling, like being wet under dry clothes. It made his skin crawl.

The group was well into agreement, shuffling outside into the snow and icy air. Frerin took a moment to go back inside, he returned to them pushing a wallet into his back pocket. Dwalin frowned at the action.

“It’s mine.” Frerin said, catching the look. He then folded his arms over his chest and took in a deep breath. When he let it out there was no white puff of air, not like everyone else. He tried gathering his thoughts before looking over at Ori who was shivering and huddling close to whoever had the most body heat, at the time it was Oin. “I think… we should go to Bilbo’s.”

“How far is it from here?” Dwalin asked trying to get Ori to stop pulling him up against the redhead so that Ori could be warm on both of his sides.

“Not very.” Frerin reached into his other pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He looked to his car that had been sitting for almost a year. “Lets hope she starts.”

“She?” Kili asked as Frerin unlocked the doors.

The vampire slid in, pushing the key into the ignition. “What? You don’t identify your vehicles?”

“Before all of this bullshit, I was a college student. I was lucky I could ride the bus to work until I could save up enough part time money to get a beater. Which Ori fucked up considering it has no door! Yes, I saw that ORI!”

“I didn’t do that! Frerin did!”

“You were in charge, Ori, just take the blame like a man.”

“Asshole!”

Frerin smirked at the two. Kili felt his heart skip a beat. He blushed and quickly looked away as Frerin set about trying to start it up. He looked back at the vampire that was pumping the gas pedal. The starter turned and turned as he did. His dark hair fell in waves of loose curls around his face and shoulders. It was then that Kili realized that Frerin looked so young, almost the same age as himself and Ori. As if reading his mind Bofur commented, “It’s as if he hasn’t aged a day.”

“From the last time you saw him?”

“Aye, laddie…”

Kili opened his mouth to say something when Frerin’s jeep roared into life then died.

“Pop the hood, Strider. Let me take a look.” Dwalin unzipped his coat and shrugged it off. He shoved it into Ori’s hands. 

“Shit, my cell.” Kili suddenly remembered.

“Don’t worry.” Frerin said from the jeep as he leaned over, grabbing something out of the glove box. “I grabbed it for you.” He got out of the vehicle while Dwalin worked. He passed by Kili, making eye contact as he went. “No one needs to see that room again.” He stopped, looking over his shoulder to the house, the front door wide open.

Kili followed Frerin’s gaze in the the open darkness within. He felt fear creeping up, he felt like they were being watched. He blinked. Then rubbed at his eyes. Something was off, it was as if the house was looking back at them.

A strong hand grabbed onto his upper arm. He blinked several times finally seeing it, the little eyes, the curtain cream colored face with long red yarn hair. It sat far back, through the hallway and on the kitchen table. A little doll with a stitched on smile. 

“Was that there, this whole time?” Kili asked, feeling a tremble go through his limbs.

“We’re not going to Bilbo’s.” Frerin said firmly.

“Where are we going then?” Bofur asked.

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Frerin pulled on Kili, pushing him towards the unplowed road, eyes still on the doll. “Everyone, start walking.”

“But we have cars.” Ori complained.

“Do as he says.” Kili grabbed Ori by the shoulder of his coat and pulled him along. “It’s safer that way.”

“Safer? What do you mean?”

Kili didn’t answer, he got to the road and started walking towards town.

“Dwalin.” Frerin barked. “We’re going.”

The werewolf leader put his hands on the top of the opened hood. His nose started to twitch at the familiar scent of too much oils, the subtle scent of brake fluids. He stepped away from the jeep and bent over, looking under it to see a rather sudden drip of clear liquid. He straightened out and dusted snow off of his pants. He went to Oin’s side as the old wolf walked along to the road, Frerin coming up behind them.

“You smell it too?” Dwalin asked.

Oin nodded. “All the cars managed to spring a leak and not by any natural means.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Coven work, by the feel. Magic, never did feel right to the withers.” He rolled his shoulders to emphasize what he meant. 

“Malicious means…” Dwalin grumbled. 

“We staying?”

“Have to. Kili and Ori are a part of this… Strider too.”

“Then we have to ask ourselves; ‘what are we getting ourselves into’?”


	13. Chapter 13

Kili kept his eyes on Frerin. It seemed surreal that he was there, with his dark hair and enchanting green eyes. He looked so different, a giant leap from the man that could pass off as Fili’s twin yet he was confident that they still held too many similarities. The vampire’s features were sharper. He was handsome, stunning… powerful. He stood with his shoulders squared off, chin high looking out of place in the simple corner of the small sitting section in the deli of the local grocery store. Frerin’s eyes took in the people around him, assessing, calculating. This was the Frerin that was once a Keeper, but there was something darker in him now. It wasn’t there when they last saw one another. There was an anger that lead hand in hand with a man that had lost his family. It was the same flame that burned inside of Kili’s chest, hot and concentrated. They would find Fili and Thorin, no matter the cost. 

They waited in silence. Frerin had to ask the manager to use the store’s phone, in which he gave Bilbo a call. It was short, telling him where they were at and then hung up. 

“Why don’t we just, I don’t know, go to this Bilbo, character’s place?” Ori huddled around his ceap store coffee, his fingers bright red around the paper cup. 

“We’re being followed.” Frerin stated. 

“Excuse me? By whom? Because all I can see out there are snow drifts.”

Frerin turned around, pacing slowly. “I’ll explain soon enough.”

Kili gave a sigh. “While we wait, I should call my parents… Should I?” He ran his hands over his hair, wet from the snow melting. “Shit…”

“Don’t worry about that now.” Frerin kept his eyes on the door.

“Then what should be worry about?” Ori practically snorted. He was cold. He was scared and everything was quickly becoming dangerously confusing. 

A little figure came running up to the automatic doors of the store. It was a visible effort for the man to hold still long enough for the doors to slide open enough for him to dart inside. He looked one way, then another, before running up to the group. He was about to throw open his arms when he saw something that made him slow down to a stop several feet away.

Bilbo stared at Frerin. His eyes wide as he looked the vampire up and down from head to toe. He was so skinny. So dark… So… 

“Bilbo?” Frerin was unsure of his friend’s reaction. 

Bilbo’s brows suddenly pushed together in a scowl. “You… you disappear on me. You don’t call for months on end while I’m busting my butt to get you the help you need. Then, out of the blue I get one where you only tell me you’re at the store in my town?!”

“Things happened, Bilbo.” Frerin frowned.

“And you didn’t think that I would like to be kept in the loop? You may not be part of my coven, Frerin, but your boy is as far as I’m concerned and that makes you family.” The little man huffed and stomped an angry foot forward. “And this is how you repay me for all my troubles? Taking you two in, teaching you what I know and keeping you safe. It’s a fine ‘how do you do’.”

“Shut up and come here and hug me.” Frerin growled.

“...no.” Bilbo huffed.

Regardless Bilbo did go over to Frerin. They did embrace each other in a tight hug, rocking from side to side before letting go. Once their exchange was finished the small company was escorted outside to where Bilbo’s van was illegally parked in the snow packed fire lane. They all climbed in, though Dwalin did grumble a few times, but the warmth that still was in the van from the vents quelled some of his complaints. As Bilbo drove slowly through the snow little passed between anyone for conversation. It was almost a full hour of driving through the harsh conditions before they finally left the different twists and turns of the roads and came to a farmstead that was lined by a black pine forest. There was a quaint european style cottage nestled on the edge of the forest. Soft lights lined a walkway, a pink hued porch light lit up the green front door. 

“Looks like one of Thomas Kinkade’s paintings.” Kili whispered as Ori and him pressed their noses up against the glass of the van window. 

When they stepped out into the winter air, night had already fallen. Kili looked at the cottage with its thatched roof and uneven walls. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, beyond that it was warm, it was inviting. Something inside of him calmed. It soothed like a much needed balm over a festering sore. He reached up, fingertips seeking out the small scars left from Fili’s bite. He closed his eyes, taking in a slow breath. If he emptied his mind, right on the edge, he could feel almost feel him once more.

“Kili. It’s time to go inside.” Frerin’s strong hand pressed against the small of his back. 

He opened his eyes to see that everyone else had gone in, Bilbo was waiting at the door for them to join. Kili took in a sharp breath, his eyes stung, he coughed to cover up the need to cry. 

“Come on.” Frerin pulled Kili along.

Once inside, Kili found it hard to breath. Everything was so pleasant, so soft and gentle. Beautiful paintings on the walls, quaint decorations of tea pots and mason jars with dried flowers in them sat on shelves. There were even some wooden toys that sat out on a carpet that Bilbo was currently picking up.

“I’m terribly sorry for the mess.” He placed the toys in a large toy box that was tucked into a corner. “I usually watch the coven’s children during work days.”

“It’s fine…” Frerin mumbled. His hand slid from Kili’s back to his shoulder, he gave a reassuring squeeze. Kili took in several breaths, the calm he once felt was now shaking with grief and he knew that Frerin was feeling it as well. 

Bilbo lead them into the dining room where there was a long table with many chairs waited. There were still papers out with crayons and child like doodles that went from paper onto table top. “Everyone take a seat, please. I’ll put together some proper tea.” Bilbo disappeared out of the room. 

Frerin stood at the head of the table. He suddenly looked so tired and pale.

“You okay?” Kili asked.

“I’ll be fine.” Frerin ran a hand through his hair as he pulled out his chair to sit. He took a few long breaths before looking to Ori. “Ori… I’m sorry that it has come to this, but… it seems it is time for you and Kili to become Aware.”

“Aware of what?” Ori fidgeted.

“Of the world around you.” And that was how Frerin started. He explained with much patience to Ori what Coven were, that vampires and werewolves did exist. He allowed time between explanations for Ori to go into denial until Kili could get through to him. He explained about vampire society before looking over to Dwalin and holding out his hand to the man as if offering for him to pick up the conversation. 

Kili frowned and looked at Dwalin before something finally clicked. Frerin said that was him and Ori that had to become aware… not Dwalin and Oin.

“Dwalin.” Kili watched his friend. “Are you already Aware?”

“No, kid.” Dwalin scratched at his forearm with discomfort. He heaved a sigh. “No real way to say it, so I might as well come out and tell you the truth… We’re werewolves.”

“You’re what?!” Ori jerked to the side, nearly falling off his chair, to look at the large man sitting next to him. 

“Have been all my life. My whole pack was born that way.” Dwalin fidgeted, scratching at his arms and then up to his bearded chin. 

Bilbo finally came back with a tea trolley. He would pour tea into a cup before handing it to someone, then placing a few plates of cakes and sandwiches onto the table. He put the trolley back into the kitchen before sitting down. He could hear the whole conversation from the kitchen and remained respectfully quiet as new revelations settled in. Not many reacted well to having their world opened up so dramatically within such a short amount of time. 

“When you say ‘my whole pack’, do you mean ‘your’ pack, as in the Alpha?” Kili swallowed.

“Aye, laddie.” Oin nodded from across the table. “He’s our alpha and we owe a lot to you for straightening him out.”

Kili blinked several times, his mind slowly wrapping around this new information while Ori’s teacup clanked and clacked against the saucer from his shaking hands. 

Oin continued to explain. “Werewolves are-”

“Neutral.” Kili said quickly. “Bifur told me. You don’t like to get involved with anything.”

“We can’t afford to. Vampires and Coven can blend in well with humans. We wolves, we turn into what you humans see as monsters. We have to be neutral, we have to keep our heads low. We have to be careful. We were almost wiped out once, we can’t risk that again… But our pack was dangerously close to being spotted by Hounds because of Dwalin’s using. His drugs, his drunken stupors, it caused several close calls.” He looked over to his pack leader. “And I’m not blaming you laddie, you weren’t ready to become alpha.”

“That was why you started using?” Kili leaned in his seat. “Because you became the alpha of your pack?”

Dwalin swallowed. “The previous leader was caught by Hounds… we found his pelt nailed to a tree a week later.”

“I’m sorry to hear that… that would scare anyone.” Bilbo spoke up.

“Thank you…”

“Can I ask something?” Kili looked into his tea cup. The ambur liquid reflected him back. “What is a Wight?”

Coven, vampire, and werewolves all exchanged looks. They looked concerned, or maybe confused. 

Bilbo opened and closed his mouth several times before a sound finally came out. “I- well… far as I am aware of it’s a kind of spirit, a spectre or ghost if you will. The difference is, is that a Wight is a living one… but prone to an unfortunate fate.”

“That doesn’t make much sense.”

Frerin’s expression turned sad as his thumb traced the lip of his tea cup. His insides turned and clamped down. He was so hungry and Kili smelled so good, so delicious. His mouth was salivating while he tried to keep it under control. Years of practice without being around Thorin helped him keep his composure. 

Thorin…

“Thorin is a Wight… like you.” Frerin looked up to Kili. Kili looked a bit startled. “Bifur told Thorin, and Bilbo, of course I’ld know, Kili.”

“...so… um…”

“Thorin and you… you’re human, but at the same time you’re not. It’s almost as if you have one foot in another world which allows you to have keen senses. Your minds are sharper, instincts bordering precognition.” He looked back at his cup as the room fell into an odd silence. His voice dipped down, quiet. “It would feel like an impression, almost like an assumption, sometimes de sua vue… my like myself.”

“I don’t… I don’t even know what to think any more.” Ori looked as if he was about to throw up.

“It’s okay.” Bilbo smiled. “It’s best not to think much on it and simply let it be. Now. Who we are and what we all are, is settled. Can we please get to the point of what has happened in the past year?”

“I got a boyfriend, he turned out to be a magical vampire, I ended up as a Wight, and a hospital blew up.” Kili frowned in thought. “That’s about as much as I can put together.”

“There is so much more to it than that.” Frerin raised his head when he heard a knock on the door.

“Don’t worry.” Bilbo got up from his seat. “I’m expecting someone. Keep going, I can still hear you.”

Frerin sighed. “Kili, someone close to you has had to have been feeding you magic for a long time, possibly most of your life. And when I say feeding, I mean, exposing it to you.”

“Like radiation?”

“More like medicated ointment. The more you got, the more effective it was, but it took a long time to build up to the point it has. Now, magic, it's,” Frerin pressed his hand against his stomach, feeling very sick. He grunted a little as a smell reached him making him terribly hungry. 

“Are you okay? You seriously look bad.”

“He hasn’t eaten since the day we met.” Dwalin scowled. “... well, kept anything down, I should say.”

“Do male vampires get pregnant?” Ori quickly asked.

Frerin chuckled. “No, no we don’t.” He rubbed at his face feeling cold and clammy. “Back to the subject at hand; magic isn’t very well known. It acts as its own living force. It shows favoritism, as we’ve seen with Fili. But like any living force it will have fights with other things like it. Some magicks cannot get along with other magicks. The one you were infected with, Kili, when it finally opened up to Fili’s and Fili’s opened up to yours they fought. It created manifestations. When we separated the two of you it had poisoned Fili and what did it do to you?”

“Bifur pulled a slimy doll out of my mouth.” How the hell could he say that so easily? Because they were a step closer to figuring things out. “Bifur then did this weird smoke and salt and plant thing to me, it cut everything off… I… couldn’t feel Fili after that.” He reached up and touched his neck once more, rubbing at where Fili had once fed on him. “He said it was to cut me off from everything, even Tethering. After that, we tried to go to the hospital to see you. Thorin said you were really hurt. Then there was the explosion… after that, I went home with Bifur and trained. I left and that brings us to here and now.”

“A doll… then it truly is the Collective… After you were severed I believe that was when Fili started to act crazy.”

“What happened?”

“I was underfed, running on fumes. I couldn’t control him. The magic that was keeping me alive started to recede, I began to die. He tore into me. I collapsed on top of him while trying to keep him from thrashing. The next thing I recall was breaking out of… ice?” He squinted to the side as he tried to remember those first few moments. “No, glass. I saw the moon and followed it. I had no memory of who I was. I was just on autopilot.” Bilbo came back, a tall man dressed in gray followed him. The tall man stood still as Frerin continued. “I was almost hit by a truck but it flew apart before it could hit me, like it shredded itself on the air. The driver was dead… I remember eating something out of him.” He shot Dwalin and Oin a look before looking away. “After that, I was found by Dwalin and his pack. I had no idea who I was, or where I was. They took me in while I delved a bit into insanity. I hallucinated flying, dragging myself on their ceiling, bleeding gold, and other crazy stuff. Ori dragged us to Chewelah where I finally started to remember everything.”

“So, Thorin and Fili?”

“I have no idea where they are…”

“Strider.” Dwalin shifted in his seat to look at Frerin straight on. “Those things you thought you hallucinated, those happened.”

It was Frerin’s turn to sound disbelieving. “What?”

“Why do you think I call you Strider? It’s because you could out run my pack. You started to fly and got stuck in a tree. Oin had to help you down.”

Ori swallowed hard. “And I remember seeing you tied to a chair. I was passing by a window and the chair was moving funny before going up to the ceiling… you crashed down, hurt your leg.”

“A few times you’ve had a gold substance show up on your skin, in your saliva.” Oin cleared his throat. “Whatever you are, you’re not a vampire, laddie.”

“That’s because he’s a pixie.” Bilbo’s new guest spoke up, grabbing the attention of everyone. The elderly gentleman smiled a little and gave a bit of a nod as a greeting.

“Th-this is Gandalf.” Bilbo was looking at Frerin in shock. “He’s the wizard that I tried to get a hold of to help you and Fili.”

“A wizard? A real one? Not some Coven wanna-be?” Dwalin looked at him skeptically.

“Indeed I am.” Gandalf smiled. “Though, it seems I am not the only one.”

“If you say Ori is one then I’m going to lay down on the floor and cry myself to sleep.” Kili rubbed at his tired eyes. “And what the hell do you mean by Frerin being a pixie of all things?!”

“Oh, no, my dear fellow. May I ask, what is your name?”

“Kili. Kili Durinson.”

“Kili, I’m pleased to be the first to meet a new wizard. As for your friend, Frerin, it’s easy enough to identify a newly born member of ‘the other crown’, very rare.” He seemed to be in awe which actually made Frerin feel uncomfortable. 

The room went deathly quiet.

“What?” Kili breathed out.

“You’re a wizard, Kili.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to re-write this chapter several, several times in hopes that things are explained well enough for people to understand what's going on with Kili and Frerin. I hope I didn't let you guys down.  
> If any of this needs further explanations, please, please, please, say something in the comments so I can answer them in the next chapter.

Frerin sat still, knees drawn up by the fireplace. He stared at nothing, as he screamed internally. It was such a terrible scream. Kili was with him, both unable to process what had been told to them. 

Kili was a wizard.

Only wights could become wizards. They were just like Hunters, born without magic. There had to have been someone in his life that took him as a baby, took him deep into a sacred place and have him drink from a well that was feed by a magical spring. The well he had to have drank from moved and it moved a lot and throughout the world. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of his parents being in a Coven, taking him as a baby into the deep woods and summoning up a magical well and giving him the water from it. His father was on disability, his mom was a telemarketer that was working from home. They weren’t special. They were normal… they were normal.

He ran his hands through his shaggy hair trying not to throw up. At least he didn’t have it as badly as Frerin.

A pixie. Not just any pixie but some strange type called a Vanir. In common tongue… he was a Pixie King, which, as glorious as it may sound it wasn’t. Not to Frerin. He had been a High Born vampire. Even after his life had nearly ended and his life force piggy backed on Fili’s for a while, he was still a High Born. He had his Donor. He had his son.

Kili felt a new wave of tears burn at his eyes as he remembered how Gandalf sat with them alone, explaining everything as best as he could.

A pixie was made from a large force of magic being pushed into a person that had died at the moment the magic pushed into him. It wasn’t like the sharing of a life force like Fili and Frerin had done before. A pixie was a manifestation. Frerin was literally living magic, Fili’s magic, that had taken the form of a dead man.

The real Frerin was dead, as far as they could understand. The creature he sat next to was a shadowed mockery.

Frerin was dead…

Kili pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes as he cursed with shaky breath. He had hoped. He had clung onto what little he had left to believe his vampire was alive. He found Frerin only for this to happen. The likelihood of Fili and Thorin being alive was not even there. They were dead. They had to be.

He drew in a sharp breath, before it burst out in a terrible wailing. He curled forward until he fell to his side. His hands went to his head where he tried to cover it and pull at his hair at the same time.

Hands came to him, pulling him up and against a solid body. He wanted to flail, to get away from everything, but the arms around him were strong and he was so tired. He looked to whom was holding him, Frerin’s eyes were so clear for someone that showed so much pain in their features. The pixie king, hugged Kili tighter as the wizard continued to fall apart. Kili suddenly felt a wave of guilt over come him. Frerin should be the one crying like this, shattered and broken. His world was nothing but shards of glass. Then all Kili could do was reach up, fingers clawing through Frerin’s soft hair as he choked out, “You’re not him…. You’re… not… him…”

Frerin welcomed the feel of Kili’s fingers raking down his scalp and onto his cheeks, leaving deep red marks. He would let Kili claw out his eyes if the young man wanted too. After all, Frerin wasn’t real. At first he thought that Gandalf was insane, maybe senile until the wizard asked him to try to feel out his Donor. After gaining back his memory he hadn’t had the time to simply sit and feel out for Thorin. When he tried, at Gandalf’s request, he found nothing. He couldn’t do it, it was as if the ability was taken away from him. It scared him. Then it sunk in, he wasn’t anyone. He didn’t just wake up under that thick layer of glass that was once a hospital, he had been born. He had no memories because there were none to be had. What he remembered now was because he was exactly what Fili remembered and he was his son’s- no, not his son… Fili wasn’t his son. He was that other Frerin’s son. What he was now was someone without family, without place or purpose. He was living memory, that’s why he had the original Frerin’s memories now, because he was them or… something close to it.

He held Kili until the young man had passed out, exhausted from shock and grief. He continued to hold him, looking into the fire as Bilbo stoked it and threw on a few more logs.

“Are… are you going to be okay?” Bilbo asked in a voice that even a mouse would have a hard time hearing. He could see the deep scratches over Frerin’s cheeks, one groove looked like it had drawn blood.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t know if he would ever be okay after this. He knew he would function, he had to. 

“...Frerin…” Bilbo hesitated and licked his lips. He didn’t know what to do. “I… think you should eat.”

Frerin shook his head. “Can’t…”

“Sure, you can. I can make you something… you… you look so thin…”

“I throw up food…”

“Though you ate a werewolf once. A good amount too.” Oin’s voice cut into the darkness.

Frerin looked up at the old wolf that was coming in. He kept hold of Kili, stroking his messing dark hair.

“It was the magic.” Bilbo said, hands worrying over the fire poker he had yet to put away. “You have magic in your bodies that allow you to transform, i-i-it’s not a lot, but it’s there. Just like how vampires have some magic in them that prevents them from going out into the sun.”

“I guess it’s true what they say then ‘we all have a little magic in us’.” It was hard to tell if Oin was being sarcastic or not.

Bilbo nodded a little then went on to explain as if someone had asked him to elaborate. Maybe he simply wanted something to talk about to wash out the sounds of crying out of his ears. “Gandalf told me that the foods that fairy folk eat are mostly magic infused. Like how we need a lot of water to keep from being dehydrated, they need to eat and or drink magical things to keep from getting sick. I… I have some things in the pantry that I save for casting ceremonies… I’ll ask Gandalf if you can eat any of those.”

_I used to drink from my Donor._

The thought hurt. Frerin’s features pulled into an ugly mask of grief. He looked away from them as he tried to keep his breathing normal. He failed. He started to cry, the fire light catching on the golden flakes that glinted in his tears.

Thorin wasn’t his Donor. He wasn’t his husband. Frerin would have to get used to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus teaser of Frerin.  
> 


	15. All coming together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _WARNING!!!_**  
>  This chapter gets VERY graphic!!  
> If you have a trigger about violence then at the chapter break line you should skip the bottom part.

Bilbo had called Bifur soon as he had heard Frerin’s voice over the phone. The second call was to Gandalf. The wizard was closer, resulting in him coming over sooner. His entrance was subtle but devastating like a constant winter draft that spilled over a sleeping camper, ravaging the slumbering body with over exposure. In contrast, when Bifur came, he was as harsh and as hard as a storm on the sea. The tint of the sky had yet to lighten with dawn when Bifur’s fist thundered against Bilbo’s front door. Soon as the door was opened he stomped in, eyes instantly focused on the familiar figure of the young man he had been living with for the past few months. Kili was still sluggish from troubled sleep, shoulders slumped after he sat up from the floor. His groggy mind was only slightly aware that he had no longer been leaned against the Pixie he had fallen asleep against. He didn’t see Bifur reeling back his fist. The hurt from the collide of his mentor’s fist to his cheek wasn’t a quick pot shot that made someone instantly react like in the movies. The pain came after the sensation of immense pressure from Bifur’s fist. White and black spots over took his vision as he was forced back, tipping, falling. Pain popped into his mind, throbbed and jabbed, insisting on his attention as he stumbled then fell onto his backside. 

“What the **fuck** do you think you were doing?!” Bifur’s eyes were wide and wild as he spat out his words. Each time his mouth closed to help form words his teeth would gnash together in frustration. “Running off in the middle of the goddamned winter! No car! No provisions!! You don’t even know how to get wet wood lit you dumb **pup**!!”

“I fucking made it here, didn’t I?!” Kili cradled his jaw, rolled halfway onto his side, propped up on an elbow.

“And how the hell did you get here?!”

Kili scowled, his eyes darting to the side where people were gathering from being woken up. He gave a small nod of his head over to the group. “Bofur helped me.”

“Who the hell is Bofur?!”

“A vampire, okay?! God.” Kili pushed himself off the floor. “Look, a lot has happened. Maybe you would like to hear it out before you punch me again!”

Bifur scowl darkened. “Trust me when I say that was a spank across your soft baby **behind** compared to a real punch.”

“I don’t need to take this shit!” Kili barked. “I wasn’t a damn prisoner at your fucking shack! I’m a free man and I just made friends with a random fucking vampire on the road who knew Frerin and Fili! Then I find out that one of my other friends is a fucking werewolf! After that fuckery there’s Frerin who’s _not_ Frerin but some Pixie clone that we suspect Fili somehow made! Then I fucking find out I’m some wizard that someone has been feeding magic too all my damn life and I don’t know who! So you can take your over fucking protective papa bear sideshow freak act somewhere else!!”

Bifur’s scowl loosened. His eyes widened. “F… Frerin’s alive?”

“Bifur?” Bilbo put a gentle hand on the man’s elbow, gaining his attention. Bifur swayed on his feet as if he had been struck in the gut. Bilbo pulled on him to guide him over to the couch. “Bifur… How about I make you some tea and we can fill you in on the details. We don’t have much time left before Gandalf leaves with them.”

“Them? Fili and Thorin?!”

Bifur looked so hopeful, it hurt Bilbo to shake his head. “No. He’s leaving with Kili and Frerin in the morning.”

“W-why?”

“Kili needs to be trained. He needs to be protected from the Collective while he comes into his own and Frerin… There is not much we can do for fairyfolk here…”

“I am?” Kili was a little surprised by the sudden news that he was going to be taken in by a wizard.

“You are.” Bilbo confirmed. “And Ori… he’s got to become a proper Aware. Bifur, we’ll need you to educate him.”  
\-----------------------------------------

It felt strange. 

Weightless.

Heavy.

Like he was being pulled in direction while being pushed on at every possible angle. He swayed as if in water.

He tried to open his eyes, see where he was, but everything was… black. Black as pitch. No tiny points in the sky to laugh down upon him in the form of stars. No gentle smile from the moon. Not even the rough grey edges of dark storm clouds. 

He tried to kick to get his feet under him as soon as possible only to feel pain spiral up from his toes to his thighs. It burned and ripped within an instant. He tried to gasp only to get in a mouthful of dark, tasteless liquid. 

The pain in his leg intensified as something tightened. His leg was yanked on, a terrible wait suddenly took him down further into the endless black. 

He flailed his arms, tried to kick desperately with his free leg. The liquid he was in was not like water. It was thicker, somewhere between liquid and jelly. He tried to hold his breath. Struggling as much as his body could.

Strength was sapping away from him quickly, leaving him with the sensation of drowning. He was going to die. It was all he could think about; how he was going to drown in an unknown place. No one would know where to look for him... No one would know...

He finally let go of the breath he had so greedily kept in. The air pushed out into luminescent, red bubbles. Their soft glow made his racing heart slow. His mind emptied out as he watched his breath start to undulate. The bubbles squished themselves flat before puffing out round, then going into thin lines.

Jellyfish. 

His breath had turned into glowing, tiny, jellyfish that was following him. 

A glow alighted down below. He looked down to the fire-light red as it came rushing up to him. Everything flipped. He was no longer right side up, instead he dangled from a thin wire that had been completely wrapped around his left leg. Thick liquid dripped down from him, sloping into the wide lake surface that was receding quickly. 

He saw dark spots, floating in the lake, crooked like macaroni noodles. Somewhere only small balls, bobbing along in nets. 

A hot wind rolled over him as he dangled. It burned and stank of rotten meat and decayed vegetation. It pushed at him so hard that it made him sway on his tether, spinning him in the humid air. 

The wind carried a thick rumble like rocks sliding and falling on top of each other. He couldn’t make out the noise as he was moved swiftly to the side. A bright golden light lit the horizon. It was so bright that he could now see what the dark pieces in the lake were; arms, legs… no balls in nets but heads with hair. 

His blank mind could only process fear now as he took in the lake of blood he had been fished out of. The hot wind and the rockfalls came again. He realized the hot wind was breath, the rocky sound was a voice too large for him to properly hear. The disk, gold and bright, narrowed into an eye, scrutinizing him.

Finger tips, the size of mountains, came to him. His long hair was pinched then pulled. He was being pulled and pulled. He screamed as his neck felt stretched out. He grabbed on his hair trying to stop it as he was pulled and stretched by the leg and by the hair. His other leg simply kicked and dangled as this being was trying to pull him apart. 

If it had been a nightmare he should have woken up.

But it wasn’t.

And he didn’t.

Instead he felt the suction of his cartilage try to stay connected to bone and muscle. First it was his hip and knee that popped and strained, then they were gone. Yanked away. Tossed into the lake below.

No matter how much screaming he did, no matter his thrashing, it didn’t stop from his other leg from being grabbed and pulled on until it was gone as well. Then he was simply a torso… screaming… pain and numbness dancing with each other as part of his body over loaded with sensations to give up and the rest continued to cling to the desperation to live.

Then his hips were grabbed. His pinched hair was twisted around and around one way, his hips the other.

He was aware that he was rung out like a rage until he was split.

He was aware that he was dropped back into the lake, bobbing along with the other doll parts.

The burning eye left.

Everything went dark once more and all he wanted was for the last of his mind to shut down, to stop registering the horror, the pain, the terror of what he had just experienced.

He bobbed along the surface. Things were drifting into him, bumping softly before drifting off or collecting alongside.

A moon came above him. Blue and soft, cold and soothing. He was fished out of the lake, piece by piece. He could barely see stars above faint and gathered among the moon’s edge. 

A silver, shooting star, came flashing towards him. It danced upon his limbs, pulling them back together, back onto his torso. Brighter stars shimmered to life, falling in a cluster. One after another. They burst like fireworks upon him.

Then he knew… He knew it all.

Frerin’s eyes snapped open. His ears filling with the sounds of yelling coming from the front room. He felt his heart hammering in his chest, his hair clung to his neck and face with sweat. He was clinging to the blanket that was put over him, his knuckles were white and ached from the stress of his fists. He gritted his teeth against the shocks of pain as he uncurled his fingers. He slowly sat up becoming very aware of tense muscles. He had to take in the room once more to remember what had happened before sleep took him for a few hours. Gandalf and Bilbo had made him food. He ate for the first time in possibly months. It had been so relieving to feel the gnaw of his hunger subside. Then he was shuffled off into a guest room where he slept. He actually slept, yet, the dream… something felt so wrong about it. Distastefully pungent.

He swallowed. His throat felt dry and scratchy.

He was becoming painfully aware that it had not been a dream.


End file.
